


Blood of My Blood

by fatelessfalling, ofhalsen



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse, Angst, F/F, Game of Thrones AU, Mentions of incest, Strangers to Lovers, Violence, check notes for all warnings before reading, dothraki au, intersex Ymir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-09-16 01:08:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 64,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16944132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatelessfalling/pseuds/fatelessfalling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofhalsen/pseuds/ofhalsen
Summary: A Daenerys and Drogo retelling with your favorite lesbians. Historia is the meek and weak sister to the true heir to the Sinian throne, Erwin Smith. In an agreement with the great Khal Ymir, Historia is married off to the horse warlord. Being thrust into this new world, Historia fights to find her personality and be worth the title of Khaleesi of the Great Shifters.





	1. The Preparations

**Author's Note:**

> First off, before I get into anything, these are the warnings for this fic (just in case you've never seen GoT and have no idea what might be going on): this piece will contain blood, gore, torture, mentions of rape and incest, sex, and scarification. None of that your cup of tea? There are tons of other great stories out there for you.
> 
> That out of the way - HI! While not a fanfic per say, this is something very near and dear to my heart from my formerly active Historia roleplay blog (findingmyownhonor). That being said, this is the archive of an very long RP that can be read as a POV fanfic. My co-author is none other than inlesbianswithistoria. I write for Historia, obviously, and he writes for Ymir, so if there are differences in writing styles, that's why!
> 
> Follow me on insta, twitter, and tumblr: fatelessfalling

Khal Ymir was the most feared of one of the toughest Eotena tribes throughout titan culture. She was the first of her name, the first considered female though she kept as much of a masculine appearance as possible - and made a name for ‘one born with two sexes’ as it was called, and bore the most scars on her skin at a rather young age. Most khals did not take leadership until they were older. But not Ymir. It was like she was intending to go down as the greatest khal in history.  
  
And she did. She wanted to make sure all the tribes would unite under her, or at least as many tribes as she could. She was no Khal of Khals, but she’d make it easier for whomever did come along and swipe the title. Not that she’d hand it over without a fight, but it’d be an honor to be taken down by someone like that.  
  
Until then, she was strongest Eotena warlord, and she planned to keep things that way. Her tale and name would betold for generations to come and become the highest mark that any future Khal would try to achieve.  
  
The only thing Ymir was missing to cement her legacy was a wife. It couldn’t be any woman she married, though no woman would ever properly live up to her standards… no, she needed someone that would strike fear into her people as well as make her look better. And yet, as Ymir looked at the members of her khalasar, her warriors, the women of the tribe (those that were not warriors - held the same weight as a man without a title), and she saw no one fit enough to take on the role of being a Khaleesi. She had conquered three villages of Lamb folk, and no one from the tribe she had taken down and the one that had tried to take her down… not a single person captured her interest.

So it was safe to say when her adviser and blood of her blood, Marco, spoke to her about a man proposing marriage, she openly scoffed and burst out laughing.  
  
“ _A man wishes to marry me?_ ” She asked, sincerely amused. An eyebrow raised up as she smirked. “ _Let me speak to this man first before I kill him._ ”  
  
It was simple: how dare anyone have the gall to propose marriage to her? Especially a man. It was insulting to Ymir, at least seeing as she did not like men and had made that clear before. Perhaps the man was an outsider.  
  
Sure enough, as a blonde haired, pale man that stood at a taller height than her was led into the tent the tribe had set up for the resting period before the tribe returned to Vaas Eotena. A little intimidating, she would admit, from his height alone and his rather striking features. In response, she tilted her head upwards slightly and adjusted how she sat in order to establish that she had the power here.  
  
“Are you Khal Ymir?” The man asked. Ymir looked to Marco in confusion. It was then interpreted to her and caused Ymir to scowl.  
  
What an insult.  
  
“I have a proposition for you. I recall someone mentioning to me that you are… respected among your people.” The more Marco interpreted, the more Ymir was getting pissed off. She looked to one of her men as a cue to attack if needed. “I give you a suitable partner in marriage, or whatever you people do, and you give me some of your men.” Ymir’s eyes narrowed.  
  
“ _And what makes you think you are a suitable match for me?_ ”  
  
As Marco once again translated what she said back to him, the blond man’s expression changed. “You misunderstand me. I have a bride to trade with you. Not offer myself.” At this, Ymir pursed her lips, rubbing her chin in thought. “My sister is of Sinain descent, such as myself. While that may not hold much here, she is quite valuable where we are from, throughout the kingdom of Kyojin!”  
  
Ymir held a hand up, halting her guards. His words… for some reason, they struck a spark of curiosity for the freckled khal. Ymir looked to Marco in thought, silently conveying she would check this girl out. Something ridiculous, yes, but if what he was suggesting to be a fair trade…  
  
She was running out of options. Worse came to worse, she’d have another scar added to her chin for killing an entire palace.  
  
But she was going too long without marrying someone. Most khals did not wait this long to wed. Marco had been bothering her about this not even four nights ago. “ _… Where can we find this girl? I expect her ready for inspection within a moon._ ”

* * *

  
When she had arrived to the Summer Isle city, it was beautiful and mystical. Handmaidens spoke of magic and wonder, of beautiful woman and handsome men who walked the streets. Lovely breezes and blooms as big as her head that gave off the fragrance of sugar cakes. A large river outside of the palace Erwin Smith and his young sister, Historia Reiss, would live that had clear water so deep that the world disappeared.  
  
And for a while, it was exactly as they said. At least, from Historia’s window where she was forbidden to leave by her brother. Historia would sit for hours on the balcony, letting the sun warm her shoulders and watch the water and the trees that bowed into them. Season after season, growing more and more familiar with what she could see from her perch. As long as she stayed there, Erwin was never upset with her, and wouldn’t lay a hand on her.  
  
It was only three months ago when she heard the first talks of marriage. “You know that in our family, we want a pure bloodline.” The thought made her sick.

There were only two pure bloodlines left from Old Sina. One sister married her brother, who gave birth to Erwin. When the sister-wife passed, he moved his affections to a niece who bore him Historia out of wedlock. She didn’t have to be clever to know what he was hinting at. Even if she was a bastard, they both carried the right blood.  
  
Her savior came in the form of Nickolas, the owner of the palace, one early morning as she ate breakfast at her brother’s side. “I hear of a warlord of the badlands, with over forty thousand soldiers.”  
  
As if she wasn’t there, the discussion turned from marrying her vicious brother, to marrying a vicious warlord who had killed thousands.  
  
In the end, it didn’t matter to to meek and quiet blonde. She was either a slave to her brother, or a slave to a warlord king…  
  
Even now, on the day she was meant to meet her potential future husband, Historia contemplated what her ancestors must have done to curse the child to a life of being put in the hands of people who would say they loved her to the public, and hurt her in private for their own sick enjoyment like Erwin.

“Don’t wake the titan, dear sister. It’s only because I love you that you aren’t dead yet.” He would warn, the threat in his tone ever present when she would do something to displease the man.  
  
“Historia!” Her brother’s voice echoed with a light tone, only to be followed by a more commanding voice when she wasn’t waiting for him the moment he spoke.  
  
The blonde slowly got up from her seat on the balcony, lifting the hem of her flowy Isle dress. “You’ve returned, Erwin,” she said quietly, approaching her brother with a curtsy like she had been taught.  
  
“I have, and with a beautiful gift from Nickolas for the bride.” He held out his arms, showing Historia the dress she would soon wear. “Picked it out himself. The best fabric from an importer from Sina. Go on, touch it!”  
  
Tentatively, she reached up, touching the dress. Indeed it was soft and airy like the dress she was wearing. Perfect for the humid weather of the Summer Isles. “Can I speak freely, brother?” She asked, looking up at the man. “I don’t want to marry this warlord… Why can I not put my ow–” She knew she was overstepping the line in doubting her brother, and expected what came next.  
  
The hand on her chin was tight, though not enough to leave marks on his bargaining piece. “You are going to marry whoever I say, because that is your place, dear little sister.” He said, staring her straight in the eyes until she looked away and to the ground. “I’m going to get us back to Sina and take the throne. If that means marrying you off and letting every last person in the tribe take a turn with you, you’ll do it. Understand?” He released the blonde girl, inspecting her chin for marks.  
  
“Yes, Erwin.” She replied out of obedience, keeping her eyes down. Historia did her best to keep from wincing as Erwin reached behind her neck to the tie of her dress.  
  
“Now, now, Historia. Don’t look so glum. The Khal is bound to like you. After all, you’ve bloomed this past year so much… You’ve got a women’s body now.” He smirked a little, letting the fabric fall to the floor. “Beautiful breasts, wide hips, pale skin… Built so much like our mother at your age.” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead.  
  
Doing her best to stand still, she took a deep breath and held it as his hand came to rest on her hip. “I need you to be perfect, today. Can you do that for me?” He asked, using his gentle tone as he got her to look at him again.  
  
Sometimes, it was almost as if he truly cared about her well being…  
  
Remaining fairly emotionless, she nodded, “Yes, brother.” _Just please stop touching me_ … She thought, very thankful when one of the handmaidens came in, reminding Erwin that the Khal would be there within the hour.  
  
“Right… Get bathed and ready. Remember what I told you, Historia.” He said, leaving the dress behind.  
  
She stood there until he was out of the room, and his footsteps no longer echoed. Finally able to breathe, she wanted to scrub the skin from her bones. She felt filthy, and the water could not be hot enough when she stepped in, against the advice of her handmaiden.

* * *

 

  
“ _Remind me again why I am doing this?_ ” It was more rhetorical than it was a question. No, it was a challenge. Ymir looked over at her adviser while one of the slaves was given the honor of washing the Khal’s skin with oil. The eotena warlord locked eyes with her freckled counterpart.

The two had been close when they were children. They remained close now. Marco had a bond with Ymir that the khal could not express with anyone else. It went against their culture to be forgiving or tease much. To be a khal, one needed to strike fear into the hearts of their followers as well as remain serious. These were two very important things.

Still, Marco was the only one left of her related family. He was blood of blood. They even shared the same freckled skin. It was for this reason that when Ymir earned her title as khal that she chose Marco to serve by her side. Was he warrior material? To an extent. He was better at communicating, in Ymir’s opinion, which was something she needed done. Sometimes problems couldn’t be fixed just by killing a mass number of people and enslaving the rest.

The brunet looked up from a scroll he had been examining and remained thoughtful before answering. One always had to watch their wordings with Ymir.

“ _My Khal, you must wife someone soon. Your father did not wait nearly as long to marry, neither did the khal before him. Your khalship is being questioned, as if it weren’t enough already._ ” Though Marco meant well, his words clearly angered Ymir.

“ _My khalship is being questioned?! I am the strongest warrior among this tribe! I am undefeated, the youngest to take control, and of two sexes! Tell me, how can anyone question my right as khal?_ ” Ymir leaned in, her eyes widening and her expression downright terrifying to any other person. Except Marco. Marco kept a neutral expression at the rather empty threat. “ _No one is worthy enough to sit beside me as a Khaleesi to my people. You are lucky you are blood of my blood, or I’d have cut you down and left you for the dogs._ ”

Her own words caused her to laugh, soon joined in by Marco. They knew not to take her harsh talk seriously when it came to the two of them. Their relation to another was too strong to be severed so easily by words of no meaning.

“ _She is Sinain, Khal Ymir. Another new, interesting thing to add onto your growing story._ ”

The caused Ymir to pause, quirking an eyebrow as she turned her head. She hadn’t thought of it that way.

“ _This is a waste of my time. If I do not see her fit, we kill them all._ ”


	2. The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a few people who were displeased with the choice of having Erwin play Viserys upon the first run of this RP but honestly, we didn't have a big choice of cast when we started this thread. Nothing was known about Historia's family, and it made more sense to put one of the most powerful men in the series as a ruler that would have been amazing, had madness not taken over.

“Where are they?” Erwin asked, becoming impatient about the wait.  
  
Historia tried to refrain from smiling, knowing that it would end badly if Erwin were to look over at her. Sometimes it was just funny how easily angered he could be, despite his claims that it was the Reiss genetics that proved his lineage.  
  
“They will be here, your grace. The Eotena aren’t a punctual people.” Nickolas replied, resting his hands in front of him. “You look lovely, Princess.”  
  
The blonde girl smiled, pulling the skirt to the sides. “It is a very lovely dress, Lord Nickolas. You have very grand taste.” True to her words, the dress fit her perfectly, and the color of roses, said to have been picked to excite the battle-worn Khal.  
  
It was then that she heard the sound of hooves on the ground, announcing the presence of the Eotena she would eventually be a part of, if the Khal liked her.  
  
Hiding behind her brother as they approached, she looked at the four people in the Khalasar. They were so wildly different than what Historia was imagining. She was used to light, flawless skin, and perfect hair; Beautiful dresses and clothes made for royalty. The Eotena seemed to have no such standards. Even their horses looked scary. Perhaps, that was simply because Historia was terrified of horses.  
  
Taking a few steps ahead, following Nickolas as he introduced Erwin and Historia, Historia felt her arm get grabbed and held back. A moment later, Erwin was in her ear.  
  
“Look at him, Historia. The one with the most scars. The more scars, the better the warrior. Khal Ymir has never lost a battle.” He said, gesturing to the person in the front.  
  
Historia tilted her head, a tad confused. If Khal Ymir was a male, why was he covering his chest like one of the riders behind him? “Brother, I don’t think...”  
  
“He’s a savage of course, but he’s one of the best killers alive.” He continued. “And you will be his queen.”  
  
The idea kept Historia silent. Her words would either upset Erwin, or Khal Ymir. As much as she wanted to be anywhere else, she most certainly didn’t want to be dead.  
  
“Come forth, Princess.” Nickolas called, extending a hand. She waited until Erwin let her go, walking toward Nickolas for the Khal to get a closer look. Only she didn’t stop at Nickolas. Her curiosity spurred her to go farther, stopping within a few feet of the Khal.  
  
Wide dark blue eyes wandered their face. Freckles from the sun, untamed hair, scars on almost every inch of her body as tokens of battles won. Ymir was as beautiful up close as any woman, though they masked it with anger. She stood still, her eyes never leaving their face, out of shock and awe.  
  
What a sheltered life she must have lived to not know of people like the Eotena.

* * *

 

The orders were simple enough. Marco agreed before setting out to assemble everything for their trip outward. Ymir would be accompanied by Marco, her interpreter and adviser, as well as two warriors she deemed fit from her khalasar, her chosen 13 for the council. The two Ackermans were chosen, the strongest in her tribe other than herself. Honestly, they could overpower her if they wanted, but they seemed content not being in command. She didn’t blame them, it was hard being a khal, but Ymir didn’t regret a second of it.  
  
Four flashy horses, with Ymir on the strongest also called by The Red, they rode. It would be off schedule, but they would arrive at the home of Erwin, the man from yesterday, and his sister. As the horses began to slow, Ymir mumbled under her breath a reminder to Marco.  
  
“ _If she is not fit, we kill them all._ ” Yet it was right as soon as the words were out of her mouth was Ymir caught up.  
  
The people from the Eotena tribes were all similar. Darker skin, dark hair, a firey eye color of sorts. Her proposed was nothing like that. Her skin was pale enough to compare to the light of the moon. Her hair was golden like the sun’s rays. Her eyes reminded Ymir of the poison water they kept the horses far away from. A deep, dark blue color.  
  
Even though she stood somewhat cowering at first, as they locked eyes, Ymir could sense a spark behind her. She just needed it ignited. There was something about her… if it was taken care of right, she’d make a fine Khaleesi. Foreign but beautiful, small yet intimidating…  
  
Ymir was honestly somewhat impressed.  
  
“Khal Ymir, the first of her name, leader of the Eotena.” Marco had introduced, though she tuned out. She was more focused on the beauty before her and finishing her own internal assessment.  
  
“ _Greetings Khal Ymir._ ” Ymir’s eyes widened but a fraction at the foreigner speaking her tongue and not forcing Marco to do so. Otherwise, her surprise was minimal and she tried not to show such. “ _Lord Smith would like to extend a hand of good faith, in your agreement, and offers his sister, Historia Reiss, as a bride to you. We hope that she is to your liking._ ”

* * *

 

First of _**her**_ name… Historia hadn’t been wrong about the gender of the Eotena leader. Her brother had been too wrapped up in selling off his sister to notice the first time, and this time, as it seemed. Perhaps he did know, and this was his plan to keep their bloodline, and his sister, pure.  
  
As scared as she was, the Sinian royal was also intrigued. She had heard stories of fierce women who fought in battle, equally as respected as the men who carried swords. To her, it had been simply fantasy, but two women peered down at her now, obviously successful in battle, yet no one looked down upon them out of fear and respect.  
  
For a brief moment, Historia wondered what it was like to have that much control.  
  
“Well? Does he like her?” Erwin asked from behind her, still standing atop the stairs.  
  
Erwin’s words made her flinch, her eyes breaking from Ymir’s and focusing on the ground. To have such control would rival her brother, and she would be accused of treason.  
Nickolas chuckled, though Erwin didn’t understand why. “Why are you laughing? Laughing at the King is–”  
  
“Your Grace, Khal Ymir is a woman whose great power has given her the right to take the title of Khal.” He explained, “I’m not laughing at you, simply trying to lighten the atmosphere as we learn balance with the Eotena.”  
  
“What do you mean the Khal is a woman?” Erwin bawked, before taking a more detailed look at Ymir, noticing the changes that Historia had known right away. “… No matter. As long as she can still give me warriors, Historia is still available for marriage.”  
  
Nickolas came over, placing a hand on Historia’s shoulder. “ _If she is to your liking, Khal Ymir, she will return to her brother until the wedding._ You may go back, Princess.”  
  
Eyes still on the ground, Historia nodded, giving Khal Ymir a curtsy as she turned to walk back up to her brother.

* * *

 

The conversation focused heavily in a tongue she did not recognize other than its origin. Her name was brought up, causing her to sit up even straighter if it was at possible. And yet, the shock and anger coming from the man that had originally come to visit her forced the khal to scowl.  
  
If he was insulting her, Ymir could easily swipe his head clean off with one stroke of her arm. Her arakh was sharp, the sting of the blade capable of creating complete chaos if needed. Her warriors could easily strike down the weasel, the few slaves they seemed to own - servants she would be corrected later though they remained slaves in her eyes - and even the girl. And yet… she did nothing. She simply continued to stare openly at the fair maiden that was being presented to her.  
  
She was foreign and beautiful. With enough training, she could easily strike fear into her people as much as a Khaleesi could. If not, and she bore her a daughter instead of a son, Ymir could easily kill her off or denounce her as a wife and move her to the council of crones, where she would raise their child and lose the title of Khaleesi. Then Ymir could take her time and marry someone new. But speaking as if positively, say things did work out at least somewhat decently, and Ymir was given a son…  
  
It was new and somewhat bold. A statement and a test to her khalship. If she could make things look in her favor, even if they did not get along well, her story would only be sung a bit louder and last longer.  
  
The laughing did not improve her mood exactly. But it did make her less passionate about the idea of slaughtering them all. Besides, what would the gain be for that?  
  
Again, there were some advantages here. Maybe her people would take her more seriously. Room for improvement, but she was small and did have a rather interesting body. It looked softer than those she was surrounded by, with decent size hips for childbearing despite her short stature… And she had to be rather tight, especially being a virgin.  
  
All these thoughts only took Ymir a few seconds to properly think through. Her decision was made. With a glance at Marco and a tug of her reins, she silently ordered her khalasar to follow her back to camp. The entire time, as they began to ride again, Ymir held her gaze on the girl she was being promised. Historia Reiss, right?

* * *

 

The sound of retreating hooves made her scurry a little faster, unsure of what was happening behind her.  
  
“Well? Did they like her?! Where are they going?” Erwin shouted, his hand tight around Historia’s forearm.  
  
Another laugh came from Nickolas as he came back up the stairs, extending a hand to ask them to walk with him. “My King, you would have known if Khal Ymir wasn’t considering the marriage.”  
  
Erwin walked side by side with Nickolas, leaving Historia to trail behind and listen. “How long until we know she has accepted? When will the wedding take place?”  
  
“The Eotena don’t stay put for long. I would expect an answer tonight, and a wedding before the new moon.”  
  
Historia quietly counted the days, realizing that there would only be four days until the wedding.  
  
Her footsteps came to a stop, trying to find her voice and the right words that wouldn’t anger Erwin.  
  
“Brother… Do we need Khal Ymir to get an army?” She asked, keeping herself as emotionless as possible. “Lord Nickolas has spoken of many people who drink secret toasts to your health and pray for your return to the throne… Maybe if we had someone go back to Sina to find those people, we can go home–”  
  
“Dear, sweet sister,” Erwin sighed, turning back to approach Historia. A gentle hand came up to sweep her hair out of her face, a hand resting on her cheek after. “Your marriage will guarantee me ten thousand soldiers to take back the throne. If I marry you to Khal Ymir, and she decides to let every soldier, horse, and dog take you, then that’s what you’ll do so we can return home.” His voice was sweet, but the threat within it made her stomach turn sour.  
  
Surely Khal Ymir wasn’t so vicious as to let her do people do so…  
  
“Sasha!” Erwin shouted, and a moment later a handmaiden was at his side. “Take Historia back to her room and make certain she rests.”  
  
“Ai, Your Grace.” The brunette nodded, taking Historia’s arm and gently guiding her back to the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhhkay. Good to have that first episode stuff out of the way, now we can move onto the fun parts! I know this seems pretty beat for beat to GoT but I promise, there is more to it as time goes on. From the books to the series to our own creative direction.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading!


	3. The Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose it's worth mentioning but if dialogue is in italics, it's because it's Eotena/Dothraki. Regular font would be Sinian/Westerosi/English. It's more prominent as the thread goes on.
> 
> On with the wedding!

The four days leading up to the wedding went by in a blur. The only thing left up to Historia was the design of her gown, for this was an Eotena wedding, and would be hosted by them. Their customs, their rites of passage, their language. She had been coached through the ceremony multiple times, and taught minimal Eotena to reply for the one time she was to say something.  
  
All in preparation for her to be a complacent Eotena Warwife.  
  
The day of, Historia had completely shut down. Present to her own wedding, yet mentally she was back in the hovel of a home she remembered from her childhood. The last place she remembered being happy. The motions were rehearsed, leaving no room for her to question what was required of her.  
  
Even now, Historia sat on a seat of furs and pelts, staring ahead at the disorganized chaos. The people were loud, and the Eotena were rowdy. Their woman walked around exposed, and people were yelling at one another in a language she didn’t understand. It was only after yet another death in front of her eyes did she distance herself mentally from where she was.  
  
She stole a glance at her wife, though quickly returned her attention to what she was required to be doing: accepting the gifts on behalf of them both. Crates and chest, boxes and barrels had been stacked beside, most of their contents already forgotten to the newly crowed khaleesi. What she did remember was that she had been gifted Sinian books, from a man whose father served and protected under her own, and been pledged his allegiance. Reiner Braun, if she remembered correctly.  
  
Her eyes traced the beautiful glass encased creatures. She had always been told that Kyojin had been extinct, and their eggs long since destroyed, yet before her laid three. One amber, one green, and one black, reflecting the sunlight through them, though the fetus inside was nothing more than a black cloud within them. It was a piece of her history… It was a gift she adored.

* * *

 

It took not long to prepare the wedding itself, though a bit to remind Ymir briefly of how to go about the ceremony. It wouldn’t be too long, as she needed to give her tribe a long amount of time to party and fuck another as long as her khalasar wanted to with the other women. A feast would be held, as was customary during a khal’s marriage, and a neighboring tribe or two would stop by to wish them well and give tribute. There would also be nobles, she was told, which she did not exactly care for but did accept the gifts, or rather her wife did.  
  
Wife. She had a wife. Ymir hadn’t actually seen herself settling down for a lot longer. She took pleasure during raids of taking and being serviced now and again by a woman she may deem fit enough to please her at the time.  
  
As she felt the gaze of the blonde on her once again, only to turn away again, Ymir spoke, trying to break the tension between them slightly. “ _Iteo akkah._ ” Oh, right. The girl didn’t speak Eotena. Ymir didn’t know any Sinian or whatever it was called herself. She knew one word, which was the word that meant to deny something or stop any action. Refusal. Something like that.  
  
Before them, two members of her lower-class warrior fought over a woman wearing nothing as they wanted to dance and have their way with her. The argument got heated, and quickly a blade was drawn. The sick sweet smell of blood met her nostrils and the sight of the other man’s guts spilling out onto the dirt followed. No one really reacted, just went about their business as soon the woman was taken from behind gratefully. Ymir simply smirked at the action before her.  
  
This was a successful celebration. Marco seemed to agree with a simple nod and her thoughts would be voiced aloud though she would not understand such at the time.  
  
“Two more deaths and this will be up to par with your father’s, Khal Ymir!” The Lord she recognized as Nickolas spoke. Marco translated, showing he voiced her exact thoughts on the matter. Good. Her father had been a respected khal and had a legendary celebration during his wedding. Hopefully it would kick up more, though. Sure enough, given a little bit longer, another death was counted, much to the amusement of the khal.  
  
The gift currently presented held no interest to Ymir. But it made Historia’s eyes sparkle. The sight was absolutely beautiful, how pleased she seemed by the gift. It made Ymir want her, though she argued they could wait a little longer before consummating their bond.  
  
Perhaps now was a good time to present her own gift to her khaleesi. Standing up, Ymir took a step down from the little perch they had been on and signaled Levi to bring her the white horse. Rare, the lightest color of the other horses, more fragile and not meant entirely for war but striking in appearance.  
  
With a snap of her fingers, the horse was brought over. Ymir took the reigns, leading the mare slowly over more towards Historia.  
  
“ _A gift for my khaleesi. The white horse._ ” Ymir stated simply. again, Marco would translate. “The khal presents a white mare for her khaleesi.” At the words, she gave a nod of her head, waiting for a smile or a nod in return. A sign it was acceptable.

* * *

 

Historia had been a few steps behind Ymir, having been caught up in looking at the Kyojin eggs. For someone as tall and muscular as her spouse, she moved rather quietly. She supposed it was a good thing for a warrior to be quiet, in case something caused for stealth.  
  
Holding the edges of her dress up off the dirt, she was slightly confused as everyone gathered around her. Had she misunderstood something? Considering she didn’t understand the language, it was entirely possible. For all she knew, she was walking into a death trap. No, Ymir wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of a wedding if she wanted to kill her. She hoped.  
  
Deep blue eyes widened as the horse approached her, lead by the khal. It took everything in her to stay where she was and not back up from the animal. Historia didn’t do well around horses due to an accident as a child when she fell off the back of her brother’s horse. She was smart enough to know that backing away from it would either displease the khal, or her brother. Neither of which would end well for her.  
  
From her perspective, the horse was indeed beautiful. Pure white, with big brown eyes that looked equally as terrified of Historia as she was of it.  
  
A shaky hand reached up to touch her as Marco spoke, feeling the warmth radiating from the mare. She seemed so strong, but looked so gentle. Maybe this horse wouldn’t be so mean as the horse her brother owned.  
  
Looking over her shoulder, she found Reiner nearby, then back to Marco, and finally her wife. “What is the word for ‘thank you’ in Eotena?” She asked, stroking the mare.  
  
Reiner was the first to answer, “There is no word for 'thank you’ in Eotena, khaleesi.”  
  
_Oh no…_ Instead, Historia simply smiled, bowing her head to the khal.  
  
Apparently, her reaction was acceptable, as the crowd cheered, and the new khaleesi was placed upon the horse, despite her fear. She had just accepted the mare! She hadn’t expected to ride it yet!  
  
With a smile, Erwin came up to his sister’s side, patting the horse. “Please her well, sweet sister.”  
  
Wait–

Everything fell into place in her head. She was off to consummate her marriage with her new wife! No one taught her anything about sex! What was she supposed to do? Yes, she had her first blood, and the handmaiden at the time explained to her what it meant, but no one actually explained to her what would happen on her wedding night! With a man or a woman!  
  
A moment later, they were off to wherever Ymir pleased, to please Ymir. Historia held on the best she could, trying to mentally prepare herself for what was coming.  
  
Once they stopped, Historia slid off her horse as gracefully as possible, looking around at where they had stopped. It was a beautiful cliff face like where they had their wedding ceremony, but it didn’t help her nerves. From what information had been given to her, the Eotena feared water. Why would she have picked a place so close to the water for what she perceived to be such an intimate and vulnerable act?

Her fear argued that maybe if she continued to stare off, the entire situation would fix itself. Her wishful thinking never worked for her before, so now was no different than any other time, and she knew it.  
  
Hearing the footsteps of her brute of a wife, Historia turned around and looked up to her khal. It didn't matter what she wanted, as the terms of their marriage had been perfectly clear in that, but if she ever wanted to see her home, to see her brother on the throne, Historia knew what had to happen.

* * *

 

The horse seemed to meet the girl’s standards. Excellent. Strong but not battle strong, definitely better suited for her khaleesi than when heading into battle. Ymir tilted her head upwards, feeling pleased that her betrothed accepted her gift. Her people seemed to agree, finding the act itself something to celebrate. From there, Ymir’s own horse, the Red, was brought over.  
  
Advancing towards Historia slowly, as not to completely intimidate her as she reminded her at the moment of a horse, Ymir reached down and picked her up, being surprisingly gentle for someone who was supposed to be a brute. She was placed atop the equine, then walked over and hopped onto her own horse.  
  
She wanted to consummate their marriage. Somewhere away from her people, in some sort of consideration towards her wife. That, and her tent was not exactly ready to sleep in or mate. And it wasn’t as if Ymir was going to have Historia in her tent. She did not know her well enough, completely trust her, and she was not viewed exactly as a khaleesi. Besides, it was against custom for a khal to share a sleeping space with his khaleesi. They would have sex in the khaleesi’s tent but that was it.  
  
Yet, her first night here, Ymir felt she should have that space to herself, aside from the servants tending to her. For now, they would seal the deal elsewhere, far enough away from the current camp as to not be seen or heard. Ymir began to lead the way, getting the impression that Historia had probably barely ridden a horse, from her actions, and also to be wary of herself at the moment.  
  
The freckled khal was eager, and did not want to injure herself with the blood already rushing to her groin. Something about the displays earlier had turned her on, which she had stated before, though was not understood. As far as she was aware, her condition had been brought up to her wife before they married, with Ymir bearing the oddity - seen as a curse by some - that was her being.  
  
Ymir was ‘two-sexed’ it had been dubbed when she was born, a result from her mother throwing up halfway through the ceremony that would have guaranteed Ymir be born a boy. It only made Ymir’s life more difficult, and while she took up a masculine persona, there was a part of her that was raised with derogatory female pronouns to remind her of her place. As she became khal, she kept the pronouns going, if only to prove a point and remind her people just exactly how she had been treated previously.  
  
As they rode for the length of two hundred meters, Ymir signaled her horse to slow down, reaching the overlook of the poisonous water also known as the sea. The sun had begun to set, turning the sky a brilliant red and orange, as a warm breeze passed them by. Ymir gave Historia a moment to look at it herself as she tended to the horses, tying them up to make sure they would not run off.  
  
Not that they would, they were obedient horses the both of them. Still, better safe than sorry, Ymir had been taught. The last thing she would want would be to walk back to camp.  
  
Part of her wanted to admit she found her beautiful. But there was no point to her words should her wife not even understand her. Not to mention she might ask someone what Ymir had said later, should she remember. The khal had a reputation to uphold, not show her soft side for all to see. But she could still show some sort of gentleness and consideration for the other.  
  
Clearly Historia was nervous and upset. An idiot could see that much. And yet, there was still a part of Ymir that didn’t really care other than that she wanted release. Making her way over slowly, she tossed off one of the furs that made her pants, walking around the blonde. A hand came up to touch her shoulder, brushing her skin lightly with the backs of her fingers and caressing part of her locks.  
  
This gold color, she had never seen as attached to a human head before, other than those of old age. Even then, the pigment was different. It was beautiful, especially with how the sun was going down and shone against her. Removing another piece of fur, allowing her crotch more space to breathe, she took a deep breath through her nose, then began to untie Historia’s dress. She just needed something relatively fast. Her erection brushed against the girl slightly as soon the fabric began to fall, and Ymir caught sight of what looked to be a tear.  
  
She wasn’t completely heartless. Even if she did want to just have sex and let Historia return to her quarters faster to be alone, as well as herself, Ymir couldn’t stand to see her that upset.  
  
So she decided to show that she did know at least one Sinian word.  
  
“No.” She mumbled gently, bringing a hand to her cheek and trying to make eye contact from where she currently peered over. “… No.”

* * *

 

There was a role Historia played in this. She was the deciding factor between her brother, and the khal. She had to behave perfectly, like a good wife. Submit to her husband (in her case, wife), never speak unless spoken to, please her wife, somehow give her an heir without committing adultery. That all started with consummating the marriage.  
All she had to do was please Khal Ymir. Yet, even that seemed impossible.  
  
Her eyes followed the fur, her cheeks going from pink to red as her heart leapt into her throat. The khal was disrobing. Why didn’t anyone tell her what to do? Trying to figure things out, she nearly jumped when the Eotena leader’s fingers touched her shoulder with a gentle caress.  
  
Another fur to the ground, that she could see, as something suddenly brushed up against her back, forcing her eyes wide. That wasn’t something the female body had - not that she would know what a male’s body would have either - but _that_ wasn’t supposed to be there!  
  
The realization came with knowing her virtue would be gone, and her body tainted. A useless Reiss bloodline, the last Reiss by name and blood. Her eyes started to well up with tears, though she remained silent. Some part of her brain said to be thankful it wasn’t her brother doing this, the other shamed her for doing so.  
  
Ymir’s word caught her attention, as she looked up to the khal. Did she know a common language? “No?” She said again, trying to figure out what needed to be refused. And the word was repeated again.  
  
“Do you speak Sinian?” It was a stretch, but it was worth a try. However, it was for naught.  
  
Perhaps she was giving Historia a way out. She heavily considered it. After all, didn’t she have hundreds of women at her beck and call?  
  
In the end, Historia knew that duty came first. Her brother wanted the throne, needed the throne, and their marriage was to complete the agreement between them.  
  
She reached up, taking a hold of Ymir’s hand to let her know it was alright, and prepared herself for what she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No actual smut yet. Neither of us are/were comfortable with such hazy lines as it is in the beginning of their marriage. Soon though, in a few chapters!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Stone by Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned on updating every day since I have a lot of mind-numbing free time at work and a 92k piece of work to post, but I'm off for the next 4 days. Uploads might be spotty. To make up for that, have a fun tumble between the sheets with Historia and her handmaiden before the big event.

The next few days were rough on the new Khaleesi.

After consummating, the girl had become sore and tried to ease her muscles by standing in the stirrups while riding her mare. This mistake had caused her to wear out quicker, and saddle sores to form on the insides of her thighs. It was both a curse and a gift from the old Sinian Gods. A punishment for dirtying her blood, and a way to shelter herself from the khal for a few days.

Historia sat in silence as her new handmaiden gifted from her brother, Sasha, changed the dressings on her wounds.

“Khaleesi?” Sasha asked, looking up at the blonde before gesturing to her hands that had clenched into the fur beneath her. “Do you need milk of the poppy to ease your pain?”

Shaking her head, she kept her eyes down.

Sasha sighed, trying to get the new khaleesi to look at her. “You don’t have to be in pain. The Khal wouldn’t be happy to know her wife is hurting, neither would your brother.”

“The Khal wouldn’t care regardless.” Historia said, her voice quiet. “… Do you speak Eotena?”

“Ai.” She replied, smoothing on some salve for Historia’s thigh. “Why do you ask, Khaleesi?”

She thought quietly for a moment, unsure of what to ask. “Do the people think fondly of me?”

It was Sasha’s turn to go quiet. There was no right answer in this conversation. “They think you’re foreign. They don’t know what to think of you as their khaleesi. It does not mean that they look down upon you.”

“Oh…” Of course, why would they be fond of her when she hadn’t done anything to deserve their fondness? She remained quiet for a length of time, caught up in her own thoughts. The only way to do so was to do what her brother could not, and warned her not to do: accept her people and learn their ways. “Sasha, will you teach me Eotena? And how to make the khal… happy?”

The request took the handmaiden by surprise. While Erwin was denying to even use furs to keep warm at night, the Khaleesi was willing to learn a new language and please the Khal? “Ai, Khaleesi. _I shall teach you everything you need to know_.”

“… What?” Historia blinked a few times, confused. “D-Don’t start now– I don’t understand.”

Sasha giggled, tying up Historia’s leg once more. “Be calm, Khaleesi. I shall teach you tomorrow as we ride. We have a few weeks until we arrive to Vaas Eotena, maybe by that time you can use what you’ve learned to impress your khal.”

The blonde smiled, reaching up to hold Sasha’s face before releasing her. “Thank you, Sasha. You’re too kind to me.”

* * *

 

  
Now what Ymir had done as a khal was almost unheard of. The fact she had taken her wife and had done so quickly, and not gone for another round once returning home, spoke volumes about her leadership.  
  
On one hand, she appeared as though she did not care of her marriage or that Historia had been unsatisfactory. The reality of the situation was that Ymir took pity on the girl. Young, frightened, marrying a rather intimidating warrior…  
  
Her genes had to be recessive enough to let Ymir’s dominate. With Ymir being decent enough to give her a few days break, her chances of conception went up. More so with the moon reaching fullness that they would have a son.  
  
Yet she herself remained hesitant in this marriage. It was only to give this whiny man some of her men to take this title he clearly did not seem to deserve. Something similar to a khalship but for the weak. Historia seemed to fear her, but did she necessarily respect her, accept how much honor came with becoming a khaleesi? More arguably, was she even a khaleesi?  
  
No. Right now, she was just a foreign woman married to Khal Ymir. There was no definite argument she would become khaleesi technically, though Ymir could hope. Doomed marriage or not, she was attractive and quite a trophy. Very different from the women she was used to.  
  
It would be during one moment they camped and rode again that Ymir dropped from the front, if only to listen in on her wife talking eagerly with one of the handmaidens she had assigned. Sasha Braus, a daughter to a man that had served her father and questioned Ymir’s right of takeover. As punishment, the family had lost some of their title and rank. Sasha was a kind girl, though a little aloof, and probably would have been a great addition to her khalasar.  
  
Still, punishment had to be taken somehow, and she was pardoned in that she would become a slave of sorts. Handmaiden. Handmaiden was a bit of a better title, though not by much.  
  
What caught her attention was how eager she seemed and wrapped up. The whole thing was puzzling to the freckled woman, making a slight face in confusion. Sasha was not the type to talk nonsense… and Historia seemed to enjoy hiding in the back more, staring ahead or talking to her appointed guard Reiner the Trostian.  
  
“Try it again, more emphasis on the ‘ ** _Jhar_** ’ part.” Sasha spoke. It was then she spoke a random phrase in their native tongue, which Ymir had no idea how it connected to what they had been saying in Sinain, not that she would even know in the first place. “Give it time.”  
  
Weird.  
  
Ymir chose to roll her eyes instead and resume her previous position. Catching eyes with Marco, she scowled, grumbling and choosing to watch the horizon before them instead. Part of her almost wanted to ask to learn the other tongue her wife spoke, so they could say something other than ‘No’ in conversation. And another part knew that was stupid.

It’s not like Historia was really trying to learn her language, right? Besides, she doubted she could actually do it, anyway. The conversion from Eotena to Sinain was nearly impossible, so Marco had claimed before.  
  
She would decide, when camping for the night as they were still a bit farther than she liked from Vaas Eotena, that Ymir would take Historia again. It was established that should Historia need her to back off a bit, Ymir knew the word to ease up but was otherwise not stopping any act of sexual intercourse. For some reason, thoughts of earlier only frustrated her, leaving her there longer than she intended to try to get off.  
  
After it was over, per custom, Ymir left the tent to go to her own sleeping tent. And yet, for some reason, she found it difficult to leave exactly.  
  
She had no idea what was happening to her, but she didn’t like it.

* * *

 

Over the next few days, Sasha had put more work into Historia than the naive blonde could have ever imagined. At what point did being the queen of a tribe of traveling warriors require more training than that of ruling as a princess, or a queen, as she had been taught for most of her life.  
  
Proper riding for a Khaleesi. Titles, and when to use them. Customs, colors, maps, proper body language. Eotena, which Historia had taken up fairly quickly. Much to her surprise, the language had been based off Polyphemic, a language used by ancient Reiss bloodlines, and one she knew as well as Sinian.  
  
Historia did make mistakes though, more than she wanted to admit to, and often tried to hide way from Sasha when she did out of habit. She associated doing badly at something meant she was to be yelled at and shamed.  
  
Instead, Sasha tried that much harder. Once Historia was able to walk again, she was led through the makeshift tribe in order to use her newly acquired language. The new Khaleesi stumbled, and did her best with what she knew. It wasn’t much, but she wanted to prove that she was indeed trying for the sake of both her brother, and her wife’s honor.  
  
If that meant something to the Khal, or if she knew at all, it wasn’t apparent when Ymir appeared in her tent. Not that Historia actually tried to make conversation. Not as deep as she would like to have stored it, she still feared Ymir, almost as much as she feared Erwin… Though, she supposed, it wasn’t the right time to reveal her new knowledge yet. She still had a request for her handmaiden and sole savior of her sanity.  
  
Sitting still, Historia held an Kyojin egg in her hand and stared into the beautiful amber glass and into the dark cloud inside of it. “Sasha?” She spoke up, placing the egg back with it’s matching mates, she leaned back to look at the handmaiden while her hair was being braided in small strands.  
  
“Ai, Khaleesi?” Sasha replied, righting the young girl so she could continue braiding her locks.

Her cheeks flushed red as she tried to figure out how to ask what was on her mind. “… You lay with a lot of the warriors, do you not?”  
  
The chuckle from the brunette behind her only made her blush worse. “Yes, Khaleesi. I do lay with many of the Eotena men if they will take my company. Does it bother you?”  
  
The blonde shook her head, pulling at the hem of her dress. “N-No… I was wondering if…” How did she word this without making her situation worse? On one hand her brother might be furious at her for asking such a thing of her handmaiden. On the other, what if the Khal caught wind of Historia asking such a thing from another female and mistook it for being out of adultery? “… If you would teach me to make the khal ‘happy’ tonight?” She finally got out, her eyes cast to the floor to keep from looking at Sasha.  
  
Sasha’s braiding stopped for a moment, letting the hair drop from her hand gently before taking a seat next to Historia and tilting her head up. “Khaleesi, you are far too timid for your title, do you know that?”  
  
Dark blue orbs looked up to Sasha’s warm brown, nodding a little.

“Then stop being timid.” She said, releasing her face to take a piece of hair from the other side of her head and begin braiding. “Does she let you look upon her face? Only once a night she visits? Do you finish?”  
  
“Excuse me?!” Historia squeaked out, covering Sasha’s mouth so no one would hear what she was asking. “What if someone hears you?”  
  
A loud laugh leaked from behind the Khaleesi’s pale hand as Sasha reached to take it down. “There’s five people in camp that speak Sinian fluently, Khaleesi. And none of them care what we talk about when we are in this tent. Now, if you will, answer the questions so we can work on you learning to make our Khal happy.” She snickered at the way Historia phrased it as she continued to braid.  
  
“I-I… I s-suppose.” She said, tucking the tendril of hair that normally fell in front of her face behind her ear, only for it to fall back down. “W-We’ve only done it facing away from her… A-And yes, only once a night.” Historia took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “What do you mean by finish, Sasha?”  
  
The handmaiden raised an eyebrow, letting out a low whistle. “So much to teach the Khaleesi, and so little time now that you’re healed and there is no reason for the Khal not to be trying for a baby with you.”  
  
By the end of the day, Sasha felt fairly confident in the blonde’s skill that she did stop by the Khal’s tent to let her know that the Khaleesi had requested her later that night. Hopefully, for the sake of the foreign Khaleesi, the Khal would be in a good mood.

* * *

 

Only after the most recent time Ymir went to relieve sexual tension as well as try to work in creating an heir, a son to inherit her title as khal one day himself, did Ymir fully reflect on the situation. Basically, all she was doing was raping Historia - even if it wasn’t rape considering they were married. That was the rule, right? Aside from being someone to make her look better, a pretty foreign face, she was nothing more than that. There was no great appreciation or worship of her like one expected from a wife.  
It was decided in the Eotena woman’s mind that she was going to set about laying with Historia more often. Surely she had been given enough time to cope, being a virgin and adjusting enough to the customs here to know to keep her mouth shut. She would just have to grin and bear it.  
  
From there, in moons time when Ymir was given a child, she would marry someone else. It wasn’t unheard of for a khal to be married to more than one woman at a time. A khal deserved as much pleasing as possible, and it was more unheard of to go past four moons of marriage without adding onto the bunch. Did Ymir need a harem? No, she had slaves to please her should Historia prove to continue this way of acting.

The plan was to see if Historia could prove herself to at least fulfill Ymir’s needs enough to hold off using other women or marrying another. From there, she would see if she was given a strong, healthy son. Anyone outside of the eotena people's’ culture may have seen the whole thing as harsh. For Ymir, it was just how they worked, and the idea of it being odd or insensitive or anything other than normal was beyond her. Not that she was thinking that way to begin with or about her actions exactly.

Another day of riding, with only a break a little after the sun had reached its highest peak for lunch, it wasn’t until sundown the tribe had finally reached Vaas Eotena. They would be spending three days in celebration over Khal Ymir’s marriage, as well as preparing to check out land within Ymir’s territory that was being threatened.

 As the woman sat down, about to discuss a plan of action for the following trip, the was interrupted by the sight of Historia’s handmaiden.

“My khal,” Sasha greeted. Ymir gave an upward nod of her head and raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. The first girl continued. “ _The khaleesi requests to join with you tonight_.”

Ymir wasn’t an idiot. What other reason would she be requested? Besides, Sasha’s voice spoke volumes. Perhaps Historia had the same way of thinking as Ymir had. The freckled khal felt her lips quirk in a slight smile. “ _Good_.” She needed a more willing lay. It was better luck for conception.

Clapping a hand on Marco’s shoulder as Sasha left, Ymir let out a loud boisterous laugh.

“ _Shit. I can not think now that I know she wants me._ ”

“ _Who would not want you, my khal?_ ”

“ _She would_.” The woman admitted. Her eyes flickered towards the flame centered in the middle as it cooked the meat of a lamb resting on a pole right above. “Perhaps she is wising up.”

“ _Or maybe she is learning to respect you_.” Marco furrowed his brow.

At that, Ymir’s expression turned to more of a scowl, deepening as a second of silence passed between them. With little to no warning, Ymir picked up a stone beside her, turning it idly in her hand as she observed the pebble carefully, both with the feel of her thumb and the look of it. “ _Respect and fear are not the same_.”

The object was tossed along the ground, skipping dust as if it were water, before jumping straight into the fire pit. Ymir leaned back on the furs behind her and sighed.

“ _I would expect you to know that much, blood of my blood_.”

* * *

The meeting with the khal had gone very well. The highly respected warlord seemed to be in good spirits, and pleased with Historia’s request of her presence later in the night. Until then, Sasha still had a fair bit of work to put into the forming khaleesi.  
  
“Khaleesi,” Sasha spoke up, looking at the frightened blonde who was staring at her like she was the Khal herself as she finished taking off her clothing, leaving only her small clothes to better acquaint the blonde to the female body. “Do you fear me?”  
  
Historia shook her head, shifting uncomfortably on the bed under Sasha’s gaze. They had talked about it, but acting it out was a completely different scenario. As sheltered as she was, and convinced by her brother that they would one day wed and lay with one another, she rarely thought of being attracted to anyone. Facing the very confident Sasha, standing almost completely naked in the low glow of the candlelight in her tent, it was hard to ignore.  
  
“Then why do you not look me in the eyes?” The brunette smiled kindly, moving to straddle the younger girl’s lap like she would a horse. One hand came up with gentle intent, stroking Historia’s cheek.  
  
The heat coming from Sasha made Historia swallow thickly. Was this what it was like to feel attraction? To feel… comfortable with someone in such an intimate way? Historia’s eyes focused on Sasha’s for lack of a better place to look that wasn’t as inappropriate. “Because I was taught that it was a challeng–”  
  
“–a challenge to your brother’s control.” Sasha finished, pressing the Khaleesi back into the bed to relax, taking her hands and lacing their fingers together to hold them against the soft furs above Historia's head. Sasha leaned forward until their faces were but a breath apart, taking pleasure in seeing the khaleesi nervous but willing to take her lessons. “But I am not your brother. I am your handmaiden, and right now, I am your lover.”   
  
“Sasha,” Historia whined a little as she blushed darkly. Why did Sasha have to be so uncouth about this?  
  
The servant laughed and left Historia's hands above her head. “Ai, Khaleesi? Am I not as beautiful as your rugged Khal? I could always draw some scars on myself if it makes you more at ease.”  
  
Reaching a hand up, Historia swatted Sasha’s side rather hard to express her frustration, electing a husky laugh this time that sent a shiver down the blonde’s spine.  
  
“There we go! She does have a personality.” Sasha took her hands again, resting them on her hips. “… And that is what your Khal wants to see, Khaleesi.”  
  
Immediately, Historia’s mind screamed to retract her hands from the handmaiden’s hips. This was wrong. Her eyes came down, focusing on her own hands rather than the tanned beauty.  
  
“No, Khaleesi,” Sasha sighed, angling her face up to make her look the other in the face. “You must look her in the eyes always. Love comes in at the eyes.” A deep breath, making sure Historia didn’t look away.  
  
Historia kept her gaze steady, though she imagined it would be much harder to do so when faced with Ymir’s piercing amber eyes and not Sasha’s warm brown.  
  
“They say there’s a woman in Maria who can finish a man with only her eyes.” The woman on top continued, her hands exploring Historia’s arms slowly, trying to show her innocent leader what to do. “Kings would travel from all around for one night with her. Khal’s would burn her enemies just for one hour of her time.” Warm fingertips traced beneath the flowy material of Historia’s dress, exposing a blush extending down her chest. “A thousand men and women proposed to her,” Sasha leaned down, smoothing her hands behind the blonde’s body to bring them face to face, brushing her nose against Historia’s. “But none of them succeeded.”  
  
Breath caught in her throat, Historia was too caught up in the movement of Sasha’s hands and the plumpness of her mouth to focus on much else, until the very end when her eyes darted back up to Sasha. “S-She sounds very interesting.” Finally able to concentrate, she cracked a small smile and gave Sasha’s hips a soft squeeze. “I don’t think Ymir will like me on top."  
  
A slight roll of her eyes, Sasha sat back, holding Historia’s hands still. "Then you will make her like it.” She stated, as if it were as simple as breathing. “Men, and women, want what they’ve never had. Eotena warriors take women like slaves. Now tell me, after all you’ve learned… are you a slave, Khaleesi?” The intensity in Sasha’s eyes was scary, but it made Historia all the more willing to learn. She wanted to learn how to have control like that…  
  
How Sasha had so much confidence made no sense to Historia, though she wasn’t thinking much as her mind roamed her handmaiden’s soft but taunt body and replaced it with the Khal’s firm, chiseled one within her mind's eye.  
  
She had been a slave to her brother, under his thumb and owned as property to be sold to whom ever. If being confident like Sasha, and promiscuous like a whore, gained her freedom with the Khal, she was willing to do whatever was necessary.  
  
A slight shake of her head was given before a quiet ‘No’ was uttered.  
  
Leading Historia’s hand up, she kissed the palm of it with a coy smile before slowly dragging it down her chest, between her breasts and down to rest on her lower stomach as she ground her hips against Historia’s. “Then don’t make love like a slave.”  
  
Transfixed, Historia kept her hold on Sasha's waist, watching the way she moved atop her, as if she herself had what Ymir did. With the thought of playing the role of Ymir in the situation, Historia took her chance to take what was hers. All at once, Historia used her hands as leverage and raised her hips to gain ground on Sasha, flipping her below the lithe blonde. Wearing a smile, she was proud at the look and praise she was given from Sasha for taking control.  
  
Her hands came up to cup Historia’s face, smiling at her. “Out there, she is the mighty Eotena Khal. In this tent, she belongs to you.” Sasha ran a thumb over Historia’s bitten lip, smirking. “Channel your new kingdom, Khaleesi. Take her as yours.”  
  
It would take a few more nights after this to get Historia fully trained for Ymir, but Sasha knew it wouldn’t take much before the Khal would be very proud and happy with her Khaleesi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To this day, the scene with Dany and Dorreah is still one of the most alluring scenes in the series and I hope I did it justice in my own post. I always thought that Historia and Sasha is a cute sideship. Anyway, enjoy the lime.
> 
> Am I dating myself by calling it a lime? Does anyone still call smutty fics 'lemons'? I call myself a millennial and then I use outdated lingo like citrus fruits to explain fanfics and I suddenly feel like I'm 80.


	5. A Common Tongue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was brought to mine and my co-author's attention, not everyone is aware of what intersex is and commonly want to call our Ymir 'futa'. This is not the platform for me to start talking about how damaging that term is for people who are intersex, but for the sake of explaining Ymir's sex and gender situation, I thought it would be a good idea to leave more information up here for whomever wishes to read about it.
> 
> Ymir, for the sake of the story and as inlesbianswithistoria and I see her, has androgen insensitivity syndrome. She has a working penis as well as a vagina, but it doesn't connect to any other female reproductive organs. She's developed small breasts and small curves, but is visibly androgynous in her features. Still very beautiful, but not traditionally feminine. Her tribe has called her female derogatorily since she was born because of the existence of her vagina, however, those are the pronouns that she has come to accept and identify with. 
> 
> If you want to know more about the intersex spectrum or AIS, please check out this link: http://www.isna.org/faq/conditions/ais

The talk would be long and boring to Ymir. Then again, most talks were. If it was not talking about her success as a khal, plan to take more land rather than maintain and patrol it, and just eating and fucking when she pleased, she did not care. Her interests were singular but important and outweighed talk of organizing a trip farther west. Or talk of another tribe heading away from them.   
  
Of course they were, everyone was terrified of Khal Ymir. Her legacy may be new, and her reign not the longest, but it was enough to give children in other camps nightmares. Still, there was always room for improvement.  
  
Before heading to the Khaleesi’s tent, Ymir chose to make a quick stop by her own. She’d eaten back while talking strategy with Bertholdt and checking up on her khalasar’s status with Levi. Right now, she had a hunger that went beyond one for food - of the sexual nature. Even though she wanted to just go in and take care of the growing arousal that had begun between her legs, Ymir knew she had to stop by her tent. Her arakh needed sharpening, should Bertholdt’s talk of another tribe possibly wanting to war with the great khal being true.  
  
Maybe it was because she didn’t want to be disappointed should her khaleesi be a disappointment.   
  
Requesting her or not, Ymir was still khal and she could show up whenever she damned please. She was not to be at Historia’s side whenever needed, wanting her or not.  
  
Nothing was better at putting Ymir’s ever troubled mind to ease like sharpening her blades. A simple grind existed within the khal’s tent for such a purpose, after discovering within the first six moons of her leadership how helpful the action proved to be. From then on out, it was an order that no one cover the position for Ymir that would have otherwise be handled by a member of her khalasar. Tedious, and adding more to the leader’s plate, but something she genuinely enjoyed. Even cleaning the sickle-sword was calming.  
  
When it came down to it, it was all about simple motions that Ymir had memorized and did not need to focus on exactly with the best mind.   
  
After picking up a special cloth off to the side, Ymir began running the fabric somewhat gently across the weapon, her hand bending around the curve of it–  
  
And that was when a noise and a movement caught her off guard. Her, of all people, was caught off guard. Just as her head had turned, her movement was faulty enough for her thumb to slip off the covering cloth and slice part of her hand. A decent curse tumbled out of her mouth in her native tongue, as she looked up at her hand and scowled. A small trickle of blood trailed down, leading to her wrist before the first of a few drops fell to the ground, the dirty turning the spot a darker more muddy color upon impact.  
  
No matter. It was a simple scratch, nothing of any concern or real importance. Ymir’s eyes narrowed, her amber gaze piercing and terrifying enough that one could assume she could slice through the walls just as easily with her arakh. On a good day, her bare hands.  
  
She stood with her blade, ready to attack any assassin in her room, or perhaps reprimand a slave that had been in here without her real permission or prior knowledge.  
  


* * *

 

It had been Historia’s idea to wait in the Khal’s tent, though Sasha did warn her that it was forbidden for the khaleesi to be there until explicitly offered by the Khal. In her own mind, she was following what Sasha told her by taking what was hers in the hopes of impressing Ymir.  
  
She sat quietly in a seat of furs out of sight of the tent opening. It wasn’t that much different than her own tent, maybe a tad larger and more lavishly decorated.   
  
The entire room spoke volumes about her wife. She liked to be able to see her spoils, unlike many in her power who would hide them away. Her bed was large and in the center of the room. It made sense to the blonde, she supposed. It was easy for someone to come through any part of the tent, and if they were raided, Ymir wouldn’t have time to react. No books, no maps… This wasn’t a room for her to contemplate her tactics. This was a place of rest and taking in her position.  
  
Ymir appearing in the opening of the tent sent Historia upright and hiding behind a pillar of the bed, covered by one of the hanging furs. Suddenly, Sasha’s warning was at the front of her mind. It was early for her to be coming back to her tent, even if she had visited Historia’s and was told that she was at the Khal’s tent.  
  
More so the moment Ymir picked up her curved sword… What was the word? Arakh. What was Ymir doing with the arakh before going to her tent? Historia’s chest tightened, and her mood dropped significantly. After all she had pushed herself to learn, it hadn’t been enough, or it hadn’t been quick enough, for the khal.  
  
Internally panicking, Historia shifted, accidentally pulling the fur down from the pilar, leaving a very frightened looking blonde in its wake.  
  
The Eotena curse was picked up by novice ears, enough to know something had happened.  
  
Historia peered around the pilar, catching the eyes of her wife as she tried to steady herself. Maybe she could talk herself out of being killed!  
  
“I… uh…” She stopped, every word of Eotena she had learned suddenly leaving her mind as she saw the blood dripping down the brunette’s arm from where she had cut herself– the curse would then make sense. A Eotena warlord would not get spooked and curse like that. “Are you okay?”  
  
Stepping out from behind the pilar, she took a few steps toward Ymir, glancing up at her from the ground after a few seconds. Right, she didn’t know Sinian. Why did her language barrier have to pop up now?  
  
There had to be another common word between them that she knew. Not one popped up in her racing mind.  
  
Opening her hand, she gestured to her thumb before kneeling down to tear a small bit of the bottom of her dress off. Erwin would be upset with her, but she could claim an accident happened and maybe she would get off with just a reddened cheek.  
  
A small smile graced her rounded features, wrapping it around her thumb to try to ask if Ymir would let her bandage the wound. It wasn’t laying together, but hopefully it was the start of a better communication. She prayed that after a few minutes and calming her racing heart, she could remember some of her Eotena.  
  


* * *

 

“ **Are you okay?** ”  
  
The words against her ears sounded strange to the khal. Sinian always had, from the times she had heard it. Eotena was the only language that would ever make sense to Ymir. She was born in it, raised with it, and would die speaking it.   
  
Regardless of how different they fell into place, the sweetness of the voice that dripped with fear, it caused Ymir to scowl. The khaleesi was in her tent, of all places. Hadn’t she called for her in her own tent? Did she not know how disrespectful it was to welcome herself into the khal’s tent without any prior orders or talk of such? Not even just disrespectful. It went against customs. It went against everything Ymir had been taught or raised to believe.  
  
Other than the curse at her hand and her own clumsiness, Ymir remained silent. There was no point in yelling at the blonde if she wasn’t going to be able to understand her.   
  
Historia already seemed spooked by something, which Ymir could not figure out for the life of her regardless of communication barriers or not. It seemed the girl was on edge whenever they were traveling or alone with Ymir, even the glances she caught of her when her wife remained unaware of her presence through makeshift camps.  
  
It was annoying. It also bothered her on a level she had no idea how to explain. Mostly for fear of looking weak or foolish.  
  
The freckled khal decided silently she would bother Marco to say something rather than take any action herself. If Historia was still willing to lay with her like it had sounded, Ymir would prefer to keep things like that. An unhappy woman led to more unsatisfying sex. It was bad enough Ymir felt like she was raping her when they did engage in the intimate dance.   
  
For some reason it seemed Historia was insistent on trying any way. Kind of like a child. Ymir continued to stare, her eyes watching her every movement as she placed her blade down and blankly opened her hand. The tearing of fabric forced her eyes to widen as she brought her own hand back towards her, confused.  
  
It was a cut. A cut did not need to be wrapped up. Besides, scars were something to look upon favorably in her world, as well as small scratches - though less so if known the context. Bravery was rewarded, clumsiness was not. To wrap her hand would bring more attention to the small cut, the harmless scratch. Not to mention it would make her look weaker. There would be talk of something so tiny getting infected and her leadership in question again over some ridiculous bump beyond her real control.  
  
With a twitch of her nose, Ymir simply spat on her own hand, showing that it was okay. Nothing a little saliva and time wouldn’t fix. Anything but wrapping up a scratch. Yet, once again, as she stared into Historia’s eyes…  
  
Ymir sighed, holding her hand out more openly. If she just went along with it, maybe she’d stop getting that kicked puppy look. Then they could have sex, Ymir would tear off the bandage in the morning. Still, her pride crumbled by the action as she could only turn her head away.  
  
To have her hand bandaged was humiliating to say the least. How was a thin piece of silk meant to aid in the healing of the wound in the first place? If one would even call it that. Spit and dirt was much better, in Ymir’s opinion. And to have her wife, this small blonde weakling, dictate what she do…  
  
Well, that was not entirely the case, but it still frustrated Ymir. Her jaw set as she waited until the cloth was secured. The tying was cute, to say the least, and amusing to Ymir. This was not a knot or trying she was used to. It was weak. Perhaps Historia knew of her intentions to simply disregard the bandage come morning light.  
  
It was only when her hand was still held onto, and she was unable to just drop it, did Ymir pay more attention. From there, her eyes followed to her bed back to Historia.  
  
Ymir had never had sex in her tent. Tradition was somewhat important to her. It was something she had never really broken. A khal had a separate tent, as did a khaleesi, and sexual encounters either took place in the khaleesi’s tent or where the khaleesi saw fit. But never the khal’s tent. Heck, Ymir rarely allowed slaves or her royal attendants in her space unless they were ordered to clean or something specific.  
  
Still, there was something inviting about Historia’s smile that made her disregard that. She looked back at her arakh for a second and placed it more properly against the wall, the special cloth draped delicately over the handle, before quickly picking Historia up to show more of her enthusiasm. Looked like she’d probably still be happy or have that grin on her face after being taken. And boy did Ymir want release after such a long boring day.  
  


* * *

 

Historia winced as Ymir stared at her silently for a few moments. The only thing worse than being yelled at was being kept in total silence. At least when she was yelled at she knew how to act. In silence, all she could do was stand there and pray for guidance. She searched for any trace of emotion on Ymir’s face beyond being displeased or passive, but found none until she spit on her hand.  
  
The thought of being helpful had been dismissed. Her entire plan was quickly crumbling beneath her feet. How am I supposed to get anywhere when I’m met with a wall each time? She thought, her shoulders falling a bit.  
  
At least she hadn’t looked away. It was terrifying not to revert back to looking at the ground. Sasha might have simply made up the story about love being received through the eyes.   
  
Then again, it might have been because Historia didn’t love Ymir. She respected her strength and honored her title. She admired her abilities. Historia did think Ymir was beautiful. But she didn’t love her.  
  
The Khaleesi went to turn away when the hand was offered back out to her.  
  
Weary eyes glanced over her, lingering on the arakh. Thinking her way through possible reasons that she still held the blade, she took a deep breath and encouraged herself that Ymir wouldn’t kill her. Not here. This tent was sacred to her, as was the land below their feet. Blood was not to be spilled out of violence on the lands of Vaas Eotena.  
  
Closing the space between them, Historia took Ymir’s hand gingerly and examined the small wound. It wasn’t bad, but it still worried her about living in such a dusty land that it could get infected.  
  
Historia glanced up for a moment, checking Ymir’s expression before she continued by wrapping the appendage in the silk of her dress. Loose enough to breathe, tight enough not to fall off in the night. If Ymir wanted to take it off the next morning, that was her choice. Then again, everything was her choice.  
  
As she finished, she continued to search her mind for any words that she could use that made sense in this situation. Sasha had taught her many words and phrases, but none of them seemed to fit the moment.   
  
Instead, she relied on what seemed to be working until her brain and mouth could connect.  
  
Keeping a hold of Ymir’s hand, she stepped back and glanced to the bed before back to her wife with a smile like the one Sasha wore when she was trying to teach the blonde. Like she had a secret that she wanted to share. She did, and she was excited to see if it could ease her worry about that arakh becoming her end.  
  
It was only when she was picked up did she suddenly have a quiet panic again. She really didn’t like being picked up and thrown around. She was a Khaleesi, and a princess, not a doll or a sack of potatoes.  
  
The words came out of her mouth all at once. “ _I can use my_ …” Oh, damn. What was the word for legs? “… _Arms?_ ” Nope, that wasn’t it. “… _I can use my… feet?_ ” Close enough? Ymir had to know what she was talking about! It was the same language after all! Even if she didn’t know the word for legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the hardest time figuring out where certain posts needed to go so it flowed better, and it ended up being almost 11k words in a chapter, so... next chapter will have all the fun of a very confused bottom Khal Ymir and equally confused 'I have no idea what sex is supposed to be but here, I want to show you what I learned' Khaleesi Historia.
> 
> As always, we're happy to see your feedback! Thank you for reading!


	6. Communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already had the work up. Why not double post? Early holiday present is smut.

Her intent had been to walk over, one hand on her belt, only to pause at the Eotenic words that greeted her. It was not the most articulate, but it made Ymir halt all the same. She had been used to hearing words she could not recognize as anything but jibberish from the girl’s mouth. While a bit jumbled, it was… intriguing.  
  
Slowly the freckled khal placed her down onto the ground, right by the bedside, and blinked once or twice. Clearly she did not know much. She could use her arms? Feet? “ _Feet?_ ” Ymir echoed back in slight amusement. She stood up a bit straighter, giving a nod of her head.  
  
“ _You speak my tongue._ ” That was simple enough for her to understand. “ _How?_ ”  
  
Ymir did not want to spend the whole night talking. As baffling as it was and a bit nice in some way, Ymir still had a problem she wanted to take care of. Historia had beckoned for her earlier, had she not? That meant they were going to have sex. She didn’t need to be kept waiting by the blonde and her impatience was starting to show as she removed her belt easily and dropped it unceremoniously to the ground.  
  
“ _This is a khal’s tent._ ” How much she understood, Ymir was not clear on. Still, if she could get across what she needed to sooner, it’d save her some time and a headache. “ _For a khal._ ” Her hands went to work with her clothes and remove them. “ _Do not get used to this._ ”  
  


* * *

 

Put down on her feet, it seemed that Ymir found her attempt entertaining. “… _I can walk?_ ” She tried, hoping that was the right series of words. It sounded right. And Ymir had understood the first sentence.  
  
It took her a moment to translate the words for herself. Yes, she could speak a little Eotena. More than she had a few days ago. “ _Sasha learned me._ ” That wasn’t correct. What was the word for taught? Had that word even come up in her lessons? She supposed not. Something to add to the list of words she wanted to know.  
  
Much to her own relief, she understood more Eotena than she could speak. She knew that it was Ymir’s tent. It wasn’t a debate, nor did Historia believe that she would be offered to stay simply because she offered herself for the first time, or showed that she was trying. It wasn’t the Eotena way. She had to be patient and go by their law. That didn’t mean Historia would ease off though.  
  
Ymir was her wife, and she wanted to be a spouse that Ymir would be proud to call her Khaleesi.  
  
“ _Ai, My Khal,_ ” she replied with a small smile. Her nerves settled deep inside her stomach, letting her act the way Sasha had taught her. There was no flinching with Ymir reached to remove her clothes, only a roll of her shoulders to help the fabric fall to bunch at her hips. Historia hooked her thumbs beneath the cinch at her waist, letting the rest of the dress fall to the ground.  
  
Her cheeks still flushed, though she didn’t turn her face away. She asked for this time, and she wouldn’t let Sasha’s time go to waste. Ymir had seen her naked many times. There was no reason to be ashamed now.  
  
Though they had had sex often, Historia had never had the time to actually touch her as Ymir tended to show up and disappear as quickly as the deed was over. Historia traced up Ymir’s arms, aware of how heated her skin was below her fingertips as they trailed up to untie Ymir’s chest coverings.   
  
She was a stark contrast to her tutor earlier in the night. Ymir was firm, and unyielding, even as her hand moved to her stomach, on its way to the tie of Ymir’s pants to get it undone. She couldn’t deny that her wife was beautiful and attractive, even when she scared the Khaleesi. Untamed, in control, and beautiful.  
  
A shiver rolled down her spine, ending at the apex of her thighs that made her breathless for a second. For the first time, she did want this with her wife.  
  
Fumbling for a second, she did get it undone, loose enough to drop and be kicked off if Ymir moved enough to do so. Historia turned them a little, applying gentle pressure to sit the Khal down on the bed.  
  
She traced her brain for any time they had actually been eye to eye as she looked up into the amber eyes of Ymir. The Khal had always towered over her, and even if they sat together, Historia sat lower than her. Even for just a moment, Historia felt as though she were equal.  
  
“ _My Khal?_ ” She asked softly, her hand coming up to caress Ymir’s cheek as she straddled the warrior’s lap and biting her lip softly at the heat radiating from Ymir. No, that wasn’t just her wife. That was her heat too. Glancing back up to Ymir’s amber gaze, she wrapped a hand around Ymir’s hard cock, giving it a slow, testing stroke.   
  
“ _I w-wish to look upon your face tonight. M-May I?_ ” Her voice dropped a little deeper, quiet so only the Khal could hear as she panted softly out of anticipation and… Need? That was new. Since when did she sound like that?   
  
Even if it went wrong and the khal denied her, she was going to try this again another night.  
  


* * *

 

Funny how much easier it was to take off clothes when the other person was more willing. Or at least, Historia acted more willing than she normally did. It was odd but not exactly unwelcome.   
  
The dress soon became better acquainted with the floor of Ymir’s tent as her wife was now exposed in only the light of the candles. Historia was much more pale in comparison, with a rather soft body that had yet to be hardened by the harsh deserts the Eotena lived in or by fighting others. She certainly was the most beautiful prize the khal had ever taken, with hair that shone of a gold Ymir had never truly laid her hands on.  
  
Clearly Ymir had not been expecting her to be touched, though. When they had sex, Historia was always facing away, Ymir did as she pleased, and then they would part ways for the night. Another shock for the khal.   
  
Her hands froze at the touch on her arm. As if caught in a spell, the woman simply stared, watching Historia curiously with a somewhat guarded expression as her chest covering was removed. She did not break her concentration, and barely blinked, and soon her furs and lower garments joined the other clothing on the ground.  
  
She shook her leg with the lightest movement to kick them more to the side as she was guided almost by mere gaze alone to sit. Their eyes were locked, with Ymir facing the same color and intensity of the poisoned waters her people didn’t dare to cross leading to other lands by Historia’s gaze alone. The only thing that came to Ymir’s mind was the art of snake charming, a talent practiced in Vaas Eotena.  
  
“ _Mm?_ ” Was she being addressed? Right. Ymir furrowed her brows slightly, a somewhat shaky breath being let out as the blonde pressed against her. She was so hot, and Ymir wasn’t even inside her. Her cock throbbed painfully, not used to waiting this long just to be pleasured. “ _Uh– huh?_ ” How articulate. Not even exactly words in her tongue that could be translated, she was sure.  
  
The request grabbed her attention. Stammered and a bit odd, but Ymir was able to make sense of it. The freckled khal’s eyes widened in surprise, not sure how exactly to respond.  
  
Ymir had never had sex facing someone else’s face. It was like how she had never kissed anyone on the lips, something only those very close did and was kept in private as to save Eotena warriors a sense of respect and pride. And yet…  
  
She did not verbally answer. Instead, she grabbed her ass to bring her closer and continued their staring contest. Her own hand went to the space between them, trying to guide herself more into the blonde and to take some sort of control of the situation. She was a khal. Khals did not take orders or submit to others, including in the bedroom.  
  
Her hands went to the girl’s hips, ready to place Historia underneath them, when she instead found herself being grinded against, her member gliding across her slippery folds. That was smoother than she was used to, wetter… So many new things tonight.

* * *

 

The lack of response from Ymir, while normal for the two because of the language barrier, was definitely amusing. All because she had taken some semblance of control she was rendered pliable to the blonde.  
  
Her hand continued to stroke the Khal, reminding Historia of the duty to be done. For the first time, she was excited to do this. It was tempting to look down at her hand’s actions, but the unbroken gaze between her and her wife was more alluring. Amber normally hardened with pride was softened a tad, replaced with curiosity and want. The feeling of being behind that made her heart race faster.  
  
A soft gasp left Historia’s rosy pout as she was brought closer, chest to chest with Ymir. The lips of her lover were close enough to lean down and take for her own, as enticing as they were. Sasha had mentioned kissing in passing, but only that it was done rarely and in privacy. With how much she was pushing the boundary of Eotena law, Historia was content on leaving that for another night, or having Ymir instigate it.  
  
Taking her chance as the Khal seemed to be losing patience and wanting to deny the blonde her request, Historia rubbed down against the hardened flesh. Another quiet gasp leaked as Ymir’s cock came in contact with her clit, sending shocks of pleasure radiating throughout the Khaleesi’s body.  
  
With the Khal’s hands holding her steady, Historia held Ymir’s gaze as she lined up her cock and slowly inched it inside herself. It was getting increasingly harder not to look away. This felt too intimate for the blonde but she couldn’t force herself to look away.   
  
Her mouth hung open slightly, both out of amazement of how easily she slipped in and the pleasureful stretch of accommodating her wife’s girth. If only sex had been like this from the beginning…  
  
Heated, pale hands steadied herself on Ymir’s sturdy shoulders as she took a second to get used to it this way. Rocking gently, she clamped down on the Khal’s cock, bringing her deeper as the Khaleesi raised her hips and came back down. Taking in a little more each time, Historia set the pace. As long as the Khal was being so lackadaisical on sex, Historia was willing to put forth the effort.  
  
Her eyes became heavier, having a harder time not remaining closed as she came down a little harder than she anticipated, eliciting a moan from her pale throat as Ymir’s cock brushed somewhere deep inside her that had never been hit before. Her nails dug into the Khal’s skin in reaction, repeating the pace and depth of the thrust.  
  
Slowly, her pace was increasing, closer to the Khal’s liking, out of pure greed to feel that tightening shock in her core again, and again.   
  
Gripping around Ymir’s cock, Historia rolled her hips the next time she came down, trying different things to see what the Khal liked as well. Unexpectedly, she bottomed out on Ymir’s cock, grinding her against the hard plane of Ymir’s stomach. “ _Ymir–_ ” Historia gasped, finally losing their staring contest as her eyes screwed shut for a second, only to open, filled with lust.  
  
She panted softly as she continued the quick and hard pace, taking Ymir’s cock in as deep as possible before gripping and coming back up. Stomach muscles tightening, Historia was enjoying this moment too much to let it end so soon.

* * *

 

They were close. The eye contact was intense and made the khal rather breathless. With how close they were, committing such an act…  
  
If only Ymir had known about what sex could be like sooner. Maybe she would have been even more patient than she had considered herself to be. With the way Historia felt around her, this sense of tightness but yet… it felt better. Easier to move and all that. Was this what is meant for the other to be aroused? There had been conversations she had been part of now and again about how taking someone that was more willing always made for a better fuck. Ymir had initially scoffed at the idea, how sex was always good on her end. Now she could see how wrong she was.  
  
This was good for her, her wife. Her expression changed to one she had never truly witnessed before. The closest she could think of was after one waited way too long to take a piss.  
  
Okay, not the best comparison, probably. It was all that came to her mind, though.   
  
Not having more control though was wearing on her nerves. Topping or not, she needed to do something. After a particular thrust she made, a moan met her ears, and that was when Ymir decided she was done taking a passive role in their activities.   
  
One hand remained on her hip to keep her steady and help if she needed it, but the other went to one of her breasts, squeezing down on a mound as she furrowed her brow and continued to grope her.  
  
Was it odd she wanted this to go on longer? With the increasing pace the other hand set, and the way her name sounded without her title and completely breathless like that, it was hard for Ymir to see herself lasting all that much longer. What a pity. They had barely been at it.  
  
Actually, she would make it last longer. At a particular clench from Historia’s walls, Ymir gave a grunt, rather abruptly scooting back with an arm around her and trying to keep them connected, not wanting to leave the warmth that was her pussy. She remained upward more than she had been, waiting a second or two in order to calm down a bit before moving her hips upward.  
  
“ _Fuck,_ ” Ymir cursed, hanging her head for a moment and closing her eyes as she tried to regulate her breathing. “ _You feel… good._ ” Words. Words were a difficult thing. After another second to compose, she returned the gaze they had been sharing once more. One arm remained around the blonde’s lower back, tight enough to be secure but loose enough for Historia to continue moving.   
  
Where was it she had accidentally touched that got that choice noise earlier? Her free hand went down, wanting to hear her name once again. Without a title was odd, not normal, but it pleased her eardrums. Especially with how the khaleesi had said it. Would finding that same place bring that back? Ymir dragged her fingers between them, searching with her middle in a mixture of curiosity and desperation. No, she needed to hear her name again.

* * *

 

Ymir’s sudden need for control both delighted and surprised the lithe blonde riding her. The completely rigid trance had broken, replaced by a lover that touched her in return. Her attention to her breasts faltered the young girl’s pace, though it didn’t stop her from working through it. Rough with the intention of pleasure sent a small rush through Historia’s body, increasing her need to ‘get off’ as Sasha vulgarly put it.  
  
Sweat dripped from the Khaleesi, not used to the heat of such close lovemaking. The physical burn of her muscles hardened by riding her horse drove her harder. Each downward thrust rubbed against her clit, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Her walls fluttered around the Khal’s cock, tightening her hold on Ymir’s shoulder.  
  
A quiet whine came from Historia as Ymir thrust up into her and brought them both down, holding her there for a few moments. Historia panted heavily, wreathing under her gaze and the desperate need to keep going. She had been so close to whatever it was that Sasha had told her about that it was almost more painful to stop so abruptly.  
  
The sudden rock of Ymir’s cock already buried deep inside the blonde sent her forward and her eyes to roll back in pleasure. Her curse took the words right out of mouth, and next ones made her blush. Though she understood only the words 'you’ and 'good’, the praise fueled that need inside her.  
  
Historia slid a hand up Ymir’s neck to angle her head up, enjoying their prior little game of wills when staring at one another. It terrified her and excited her, so much like the Khal herself. If this was a common thing for married couples to do during sex, Historia may have found her favorite thing about marriage…  
  
Little break deemed over by the brunette below her, Historia kept her seat on the Khal’s lap, swiveling her hips instead. The stretch of being filled felt amazing, and the change in angle scraped against the spot inside her every time she moved forward, eliciting small moans between her pants for air.  
  
Her blush had started to spread down her pale body as Ymir’s hand explored lower. Lifting her hips, she started to bounce again, her slick wetness making it harder to grip around Ymir’s cock but oh so easy to slide back down and fill the blonde as she liked. No wonder whores liked the position.   
  
Deft fingers found her clit, rubbing against it skillfully, surprising Historia. “Oh Gods– Ymir–” Coupled with the thrusts she gave, Historia was done for. Moving faster, her thighs trembled from the pleasure as her core tightened. She moved faster, her eyes closing against her will and her head falling forward to rest her forehead against Ymir’s. The Khal’s name on her lips repeatedly as she neared her orgasm.  
  
All at once, with Ymir’s fingers on her clit, hard body and cock beneath her, and the rush of something new and good, Historia’s body rippled and her walls clamped down around Ymir’s cock as she slammed all the way down. She bit her lip to hold back the noises, breathing harsher as she raised to ride out her orgasm and bring Ymir to her end too.

* * *

 

It seemed to do something. Ymir had figured out something important through all of this, while discovering that it seemed whomever she was having sex with could enjoy it more. This caused a somewhat tired, cocky grin to grace her features, if only for a few seconds.  
  
Her name was said, along with something else. That had to be a curse. Therefore, Ymir had done well. And she had absolutely no real idea what she was doing. Still, she continued her ministrations. A hand remained glued to her neck, and fingernails began to drag against the sensitive skin. The simply action caused a hiss to escape the freckled khal.  
  
See, the thing Ymir was not aware of, was how sensitive her neck was. The action of being held had somehow helped turn her on more, and the scraping had her pupils dilate and her blood run hotter. Unfortunately, she was unable to continue looking into those beautiful, captivating blue orbs her wife had. Something about knowing what she was missing made her movements growing a little more frantic. That, and Historia was behaving a lot differently than she was used to.  
  
Taking lamb girls did not lead to this. Whatever had gotten into Historia, Ymir wanted to know. She had a feeling with the closeness the blonde had developed with one of her handmaiden slaves had something to do with it. Some men had complimented Sasha’s skills before, and Ymir had never really slept with anyone in her village and got rid of her frustrations with slaves and when taking new tribes as a prize.  
  
Good for her. She deserved a good marriage partner. Silently she decided to figure that out tomorrow.  
  
As Historia had seemed to meet her end, Ymir kept things the same, watching with amazement the blonde’s expression from how close they were. Their lips were practically brushing, though did not exactly kiss or meet. That was something Ymir was not sure she was ready for. She did, however, at the sign of Historia having calmed down more, guide her down to lay more while keeping a hold of her hips.  
  
She was more exhausted than usual. And she barely had done anything, in her opinion. Right now, Ymir wanted to just get off, seeing as even though it was a lot quicker for her that she had done something remarkable tonight. Her hips sped up, Ymir practically slamming into Historia as she had her eyes shut tightly.   
  
It was only a minute later Ymir came, with her release bathing the insides of her wife’s core. Her motions had slowed to almost a complete stand still, as the khal remained buried deep and panted harshly, leaning over as she did.   
  
She’d be okay with crossing into the Night Lands after a screw like that. Slipping out, the freckled khal looked at Historia, her expression considerably softened from the normal harsh look she gave off. She wanted to be more clear and tell her how she was impressed. Or how for the first time since their marriage agreement how Ymir had never been more attracted to her than she was right now.  
  
Foolish for a strong leader to feel such a way. Or at all, she’d chastise herself later. But right now, somehow, the Reiss girl had become her world.  
  


* * *

 

The sudden flip of the position jostled Historia, almost wincing as her wife continued to thrust into her very sensitive depths. Though rough, it wasn’t how Ymir normally took her. Historia had always been treated like glass unless it suited Erwin otherwise, and Ymir had always treated her as unbreakable during sex. For once, the roughness had a consideration to it. Rough with a purpose.  
  
A secondary rush ran through her body as the Khal finished, pleased with herself to have taken so much out of her. Any other time she cleaned herself up and walked away as if nothing happened. Ymir removed herself from Historia’s body, still lingering above her.  
  
Laying so openly after the act, Historia’s blush darkened a little. Her hand drifted from her neck to tuck some of Ymir’s sweat soaked fringe behind her ear as her legs slid down the backs of Ymir’s. A content smile tugged at her fair features, both satisfied and, dare she say it, happy?  
  
She had pleased and tired out the great Khal. Sasha was going to get the biggest treat for her training.  
  
As the lust faded from Ymir’s eyes, Historia was left with something she couldn’t quite place. She knew anger, lust, pride, want, and terror… But this was a soft emotion. A feeling she had never received therefore had nothing to compare it to. What was left felt more intimate than the act they had finished. Sex was expected part of her being the Khal’s wife, a necessity to birth a male heir for Ymir’s linage.  
  
This was closer to caring than Historia had ever been. Had consenting and participating in the act with Ymir all that it took? Then again, the blonde felt like she might have been reading too much into it. Perhaps the Khal had simply been pleased and was waiting silently to see if she could go again.  
  
Beneath all of it, the idea of someone caring for her scared her more than the idea that her wife was a barbarian. Her brother claimed to care for her and she knew what it meant. His care came with a price of obedience and silence of his actions.  
  
“ _Khal Ymir?_ ” She asked softly, her hand coming back down to rest on Ymir’s chest as she leaned up on an elbow, bumping her nose tenderly against Ymir’s freckled one. “ _I should go to my own tent, ai?_ ” As much as she didn’t want to, the Khal had been very clear about her leaving after and not returning without her permission.   
  
The look Ymir was gave her made her want to stay and try to figure out exactly what scared her so much about being cared for by her.   
  
Historia applied a gentle pressure to Ymir’s chest to test and see if she would move to let her get up and get dressed.

* * *

 

Ymir continued to hover somewhat over Historia, trying to figure out exactly what she wanted. While she was exhausted, she wanted to have a refresher on what just transpired. She wanted Historia to stay even if it went against tradition and code just to hold her. That was a new feeling.  
  
But rules were a way for a reason. Traditions had to be kept. The khal slept separately from the khaleesi - or khaleesis in some cases. It was for a sense of privacy, and a khals right to have some space set aside completely for themselves as they relaxed and slept and to be otherwise undisturbed unless the situation called for it. And it also would be easier for when a khaleesi was expecting and went into labor. The khal remained otherwise left alone and only bothered if still awake to celebrate for a feast.  
  
Yet within just this session, Ymir’s thoughts on being separated were brought to question. Only an hour ago, she viewed the other as nothing but a wet cloth and nothing really more. Though very beautiful. She had potential but hadn’t been rising to it. But after just now…  
  
What was this girl doing to her?  
  
She blamed the post-sex haze she was experiencing. The freckled khal swallowed as she was brought back to the present by the blonde’s eotena. It was rather put together, though the structure was a bit broken. Historia was questioning what was to happen next, if she were to return to her tent. Ymir was tempted to say no, that she ordered her to stay, just to observe her more or possibly go another round once she was ready.  
  
“ _Yes,_ ” Her mouth spoke ahead of her. “ _You should._ ” She kept her voice soft though, a bit strained unfortunately, but it was too late to change how she spoke. Following the small push, Ymir sat up and allowed Historia access to get up.  
  
She didn’t help exactly. Ymir just watched as Historia dressed once more in her odd clothing, handing at one point a garment, but remained half-laying down. And just like that, Historia was heading out.   
  
Ymir sighed and laid back on the furs of her bed and shut her eyes. Sleep would not come to her for another hour as she continued to think about what had happened and the beautiful, yet intriguing woman that was her wife. Slowly, Ymir drifted off with thoughts of wanting to know more about this girl, Historia, and how on earth she found the weird foreign clothing comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course the longest chapter to date would be smut. 
> 
> Fun fact: This was actually the first sex scene me and Andy co-wrote, cause the first time we RP'd BoMB (this is the rewrite, the first one was rushed and rubbish), he wasn't 18 yet. A whole five years ago. Jeez, talk about history.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I might not post for 2 days after this (going out of town). Enjoy!


	7. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally moving into more of the creative liberty stuff. A bigger cast of characters, more development. I'm very excited.

Historia rose from her position on the bed, lifting her dress from the floor to place back on her body. Without the body heat of Ymir warming her, and her heart rate back to normal, she was all too aware of how chilly the air had become outside as it came through the spaces in the tent walls.  
  
Legs weak as she stood up, she wobbled a bit and nearly started to giggle. It was like she had finished riding a horse. Her cheeks flushed pink at the thought, cursing Sasha silently. It was her crass thinking that tainted her.  
  
With the dress on, she moved, only to find that part of it billowed open because of her missing sash that held it together. Historia looked over, finding it in Ymir’s hand as she continued to watch the Khaleesi with the same expression. “ _Thank you, My Khal,_ ” she spoke softly, taking it from her and tying it in place. “ _Goodnight._ ” Her head bowed slightly, she turned away from the brunette and walked out of the tent and into her own.  
  
Sasha was all too enthused to talk about what had happened, and to giggle at the funny way Historia walked to compensate for the pull in her muscles. “She was impressed, I take it?”  
  
The blonde simply smiled, taking a seat on one of her chairs and grabbed one of the cloths on the table to wipe away at her legs. She had never walked so soon after sex, but knew better than to let something leak down her leg.  
  
“Well, at least the Khal enjoyed herself.” Sasha snickered, only to have the rag thrown in her face and her fall backward off the bed. “Gross! Khaleesi, that was mean!”  
  
“I thought to have the Khal’s seed was a blessing,” Historia quoted, getting up, followed closely by the handmaiden to change into her nightclothes.  
  
“It is, Khaleesi, for those who are taken by her– Throwing a soiled cloth is just rude.” The brunette laughed, helping Historia. “But with one night under your belt, you can take on so much more.” Pulling her hair out of the back of the nightgown, she smiled and turned Historia to face her. “A beautiful Khaleesi who inspires her Khal will lead her Khalasar to many victories. You are exactly what Ymir needed.”  
  
Sighing softly, Historia shook her head. “You put too much faith in me, Sasha. I’m sure tonight was an anomaly in the Khal’s life.” The blonde walked to the bed, blowing out several candles along the way. “But for now, I just want to rest. Tomorrow I can learn more.”  
  
And learn she did. Night after night for a fortnight, Historia grew by leaps and bounds both linguistically and in the bedroom, becoming a fair match for her Khal. Outside of the tent, Historia was still timid and meek, but if she was ever commanded to the Khal’s tent, she continued to press the envelope. One round went to two, building up the sweet Khaleesi’s stamina.  
  
Historia panted softly as Ymir and her parted on her bed, leaving the Khaleesi seeing stars as the euphoric feeling waned away, and a smile remained on her lips. Though the time they spent together in bed had been slowly lengthening, her allotted time to stay after was dwindling with every breath she took. And she knew Ymir wouldn’t allow her stay. She asked at the end of every night if she should return to her tent, and Ymir would agree. What was the point in asking?  
  
Sitting up, Historia dressed herself, quickly braiding her hair to tame the messy locks created by Ymir’s touch during the act. Dress secure, and looking somewhat presentable, she got up, smiling at Ymir softly. “ _Goodnight, My Khal._ ” She said, moving to walk out the tent entrance like she had so many times before.

* * *

While Ymir had experience behind her belt, she was learning quickly that sex could be a lot more than it had been. The first time Historia had taken charge in her tent had surprised her but opened her eyes to a new world of pleasure. The night onward she found there to be more than just a relief for her sexual tension and a means to create a child. For fourteen sundowns did Ymir’s knowledge in the bedroom grow, as well as how long she lasted and how often they would go at it.

Today was not different. Now they were able to sync up at least once during their intimate moments in the night, each reaching that peak that brought the vision of the night sky to her eyes and the little suns that burned beyond where man could reach.  
  
There was something special about her Khaleesi, something magical. She would behave similarly to a mouse during a day, but by night showed the ferocity Ymir could only compare to the tales of her house she had heard from Marco that went behind her name. The Reiss house, descendant of the Kyojin… Controller of Titans, Ymir’s own background. Perhaps there was something behind that. When it was just the two of them, no matter what Ymir did or how she was positioned, sit was Historia that maintained control. It was almost as if the blonde had her by the throat while whispering sweet nothings in her ear.  
  
As they took a moment to bask in the glow that often came post-coitus, Ymir gave a rather satisfied sigh as she stared up at the ceiling. Her heart rate was coming down, and with it Ymir’s mind was becoming sharper, less foggy. So she was able to pick up rather quickly the shift of weight on the bed and how Historia simply got up and began dressing.  
  
She was taking her time. Ymir bit her lip. Usually, Historia would ask if she should return to her tent before composing herself and heading out. The lack of questioning brought an arch to Ymir’s brow and an odd longing from the depths of her chest.  
  
It wouldn’t be until Historia was halfway out the tent the words tumbled out of her mouth with little thought. “ _You did not ask if you should return to your tent._ ” Ymir mused, mostly to herself, but also to get the other to stop walking. A playful smile tugged at her lips, proving she was not mad or really upset by this action, but simply surprised. Her eyes flickered with amusement as she stared down the khaleesi with the same intensity as the candles lit around the tent.  
  
It was against tradition. She should not want her to stay in the tent. There was a reason the khal and khaleesi were separated, especially if there were multiple wives in the equation. And yet…  
  
“ _You ask if you should return to your tent._ ” The freckled khal paused for but a moment to find the right way to phrase her exact view on the situation. “ _You do not ask if I want you to stay._ ” Ymir bit her lip slightly as she shifted her gaze more to the left at a certain spot in the tent. Anywhere but those intense oceanic eyes. “ _A khaleesi is expected to sleep in her own tent, as is a khal. I answer how it has always been._ ”  
  
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “ _But I want you to stay._ ” The phrase itself caught Ymir off guard, her eyes snapping open and widening slightly in realization of just how true it was now that she had spoken her thoughts aloud.

* * *

 

Eotena words brought her feet to a stop, teeth biting into the inside of her cheek. Had the question become a part of their love making to the point where it felt wrong not to ask to the both of them, even though they knew the answer? Or perhaps Ymir was like her brother and demanded she ask before she did anything.  
  
Pale digits entangled themselves in the fabric of her dress, turning to smile at Ymir and take a step closer. “ _I did not ask because I did not want to bother you with questions I already knew the answer to._ ” She spoke, glancing up at the face of her wife. There was no anger, only a twinkle from the dancing flames of the many candles giving the tent light.  
  
In the dim light, Ymir’s eyes shown like Kyojin glass, even from a distance. Until a short time ago, she had always seen them as a source of fear, but now they were warm and inviting. Historia was unaware of when she started seeing them as comfort like she did now.  
  
“ _Ai, My Khal._ ” She replied, taking a few more steps in so they could talk without raising their voices across the tent. “ _I know… but I do not understand…_ ” Forehead wrinkling in confusion, she pursed her lips. Was this a game? Or Ymir testing her knowledge of the Eotena way? Historia was well aware of where she belonged after the Khal dismissed her for the night.  
  
Oh… Ymir wanted her to stay. That was something Sasha hasn’t prepared her for. Did she deny the Khal in favor of the Eotena tradition or did she give into Ymir’s request and risk backlash from her tribe? After how far they had come in their marriage, Historia knew the better answer.  
  
Walking back to the bed, Historia’s mouth opened, “ _If that’s what you want, My Khal._ ” Her hands coming up to untie the dress from around her petite body. Ymir slept in the nude, so would the Khaleesi. Gods forbid one of the Khalasar come in before she had time to dress in the morning.  
  
Historia let out her hair as she laid back down on the bed of furs, looking up at the Khal with a small smile. Sasha had told her how rare it was to get permission to stay, it made her wonder what Ymir was thinking. “ _Are you not afraid your council will look unfavorably on this choice?_ ” She asked, moving to lay on her side and pull one of the hides up to cover her lower half.  
  
One arm tucked under her head, she shut her eyes for a moment to get comfortable. Ymir’s bed was very nice. As much as she had been on it in the last few nights, she never got to know exactly how easy it was to fall asleep next to someone so warm, who both riled up her brain and put ease into her heart. At least, until that night.  
  
Her dreams were non-existent. No anxiety of her brother’s pressure on her, or fear of being ripped away from what she knew. Just a few hours of pure sleep, for the first time in many years.  
  
It was only the sound of people outside the tent, and yelling that woke up the Khaleesi. Opening her eyes, she found herself face to face with Ymir in near darkness since the candles had burned out, completely asleep and breathing evenly. She looked so gentle…  
  
“ _Where is the Khal?_ ” A man shouted outside, as a horse galloped passed. “ _Find the Khal! Now!_ ”  
  
Historia sat up, eyes wide. Something was going on. Wincing, she placed her hand on Ymir’s arm, shaking her awake softly as to not end up bleeding out from a warrior’s reaction. “ _Ymir–_ ” Oh, brain work! Speak Eotena! “ _Ymir– Uh– Yelling?_ ” Not right. “ _Fight!_ ” Nope, still not it. “ _Attack!_ ” There it was! “ _Someone is attacking!_ ”

* * *

 

Her curiosity of sleeping beside the blonde would be fulfilled tonight. Perhaps it would ease the damned ache in her chest when Historia left each evening that seemed to strengthen over the last two weeks. Knowing her request was being met, Ymir relaxed slightly, moving aside more on the bed to give the girl some room.  
  
“ _I am never afraid. Khal Ymir does not know fear._ ” Ymir snorted, wiggling a bit before shutting her eyes. “ _The council can go fuck themselves._ ”  
  
Sleep would not come immediately, as the khal was distracted by the beauty beside her. Once she was certain Historia was asleep, Ymir shifted onto her side, finding herself face to face with the blonde. In that moment, Ymir felt as though she had looked into the eyes of the Great Titan himself. Slowly her eyes began to close, and the khal drifted off to sleep. Her dreams would slip past her fingertips, her mind a complete blank.  
  
The sound of controlled panic and conflict met her ears at the same time the sound of her wife’s voice did. Ymir slowly sat up, her head a big groggy with only a few hours of sleep, and it taking a moment for her brain to fully catch up. “ _Attack…?_ ” Ymir’s eyes snapped wide as she threw the fur cover her aside more onto Historia and jumped onto her feet. “ _Are you fucking kidding me?_ ” Ymir groaned, slipping her pants on and gearing herself up for battle. She was not exactly talking to Historia but more belly-aching on her part. After all, Ymir was tired, after a rather lengthy round last night, and she wanted to actually sleep in.  
  
An attack in the middle of the night? It was unheard of and a cowardly move on the other khal’s part. At least they weren’t closer to Vaas Eotena - though the absurdity of it all was on the same level as attacking on the peaceful grounds. With a whistle, her stallion was brought to her, and as Ymir mounted the Red, she only grew increasingly annoyed over the entire ordeal.  
  
Perhaps it was for the best, as she was brutal, merciless on the field. Riding by one footsoldier after another of the green-marking tribe was decapitated with a swift stroke of her blade. The battle would end just before sunrise, she predicted, and she was very close, the sun peaking over the horizon as two of her khalasar held the khal of the other tribe between them, pinned.  
  
Ymir raised her arakh, scowling as she approached the man of the other tribe, the steel stained blood red and dripping with the blood of the last warrior she had killed at the dozen before him.  
  
“ _What kind of a khal attacks before the sun has greeted the day?_ ” Ymir sneered, spitting for emphasis on the ground beside her. “ _Pathetic._ ” Her blade was raised. “ _This is the last face you will see as you cross over into the Night Lands. I want you to remember my face, as it is the last thing you will see. Let it burn into your skull, as my khalasar claims your women and your men as slaves. Or rather, my slaves._ ”  
  
Ymir sneered. “ _When you greet the Great Titan, tell him Khal Ymir sent you._ ” And with that, the khal was beheaded, thus stripping his title of khal and claiming what was his as a victory for Ymir. Another win for the undefeated khal. Of course, she could have spared the man, but what was the point for a spineless coward as foolish as him to live? Besides, it just meant her next scar would be bigger, better.  
  
Her khalasar cheered. Her people were already set into reaping their rewards. but Ymir? She was tired. She simply left Marco to keep track of things as she slipped back into her tent, staggering from sheer exhaustion. Her movements were sloppy removing her clothes, but it was clear she was unscathed. Within seconds she was back into her bed, and without thinking brought an arm around Historia and pinning her down, trapped in her embrace. And out like a light, Ymir went.

* * *

 

Historia was only a few seconds behind Ymir getting dressed, running to the opening of the tent only to get blocked by Reiner. “What’s going on? I only caught a few words– I need to see my brother–”  
  
The tall blond man remained where he was. “Sorry, Khaleesi. I can’t let you leave until the battle is over,” He said only to be met with a look of confusion. “If the battle were to be lost, then you would be in danger. You aren’t a shifter nor can you fight.”  
  
He had a point. Historia was useless, but it didn’t make her any happier being told so. After having such praise from Ymir and Sasha over the last few days, it was a blow to her barely-there ego. “Is my brother out fighting?” She asked, opening the tent flap and looking at the sky. It was early. Just before dawn she figured.  
  
Reiner held back a laugh, releasing a heavy snort. “Your brother has never seen battle, Khaleesi. An Eotena skirmish for land would be the Three Kingdom’s war to him. I assure you your brother is safe in the hands of the men protecting him. I believe Sasha was in his company last night. She’s enough of a warrior to take anyone down given a bow.”  
  
Wincing at the idea of Sasha sleeping with her brother, she sighed. “Will Ymir be alright?” Her wife had so little sleep due to Historia invading her tent.  
  
A hand fell upon her shoulder, callused and rough from wars that Historia had never heard of. Looking up, she found Reiner smiling down at her. “Go back to bed, Khaleesi. Ymir is the strongest Khal the Eotena have ever seen. This battle will be over soon.”  
  
Her own hand came up, resting on his for a moment. “Thank you, Ser Reiner. Please, if you see Sasha or Marco before I do, let them know to come check in with me later. I’d like to know they’re okay.” Turning on the ball of her foot, Historia walked back into the tent, but knew sleep was an impossible task. Ymir was in battle, and their people were fighting. How could a Queen sleep during a time like that?  
  
Going from one place to another, Historia examined parts of Ymir’s tent that she hadn’t been able to before, and nibbled a small bit on some snack items left for the Khal’s taste.  
  
Eventually, Historia did tire herself out, taking a seat on the bed as she said a quiet prayer to the Gods to bring her wife home safely.  
  
The blonde perked up at the sound of horses coming back into the camp, and cheers coming from far away and a horse’s neigh from outside the Khal’s tent. Seconds later, Ymir entered and Historia smiled. Gods be good, they answered her prayers.  
  
Before she could ask, Ymir was naked and collapsed into bed, holding Historia tight to her.  
  
Of course, Sasha and Historia had woken up like that a time or two, since they shared a bed, but not once had the Khal ever held her beyond what was needed during sex to make sure she didn’t fall off the bed. It was… nice. Comforting. Her wife was unhurt, breathing, and tired from winning a battle that kept their people safe. That was all that mattered to Historia.  
  
Dark blue eyes glanced up to look at Ymir’s face without feeling judged, or with Ymir’s daunting and amused smirk. In her sleep, she seemed so at peace. Features softened, wrinkles smoothed away. The freckles on her face were childish and sweet. If it weren’t for the hard set of her eyes when she left the tent, or the marks on her body, Historia could see Ymir on the streets of Trost, like any other beautiful woman she had ever seen.  
  
Tucking her head under Ymir’s chin, Historia settled in with a happy little sigh. Still, sleep did not come to the blonde, with so many things swimming through her head. Shutting out the voices calling her attention in her mind, her eyes traced the scars on Ymir’s body. Each one told a story of a battle she fought and won. The shapes melded together, like white lace on dark fabric. She wondered if Ymir’s freckles dotted her arms and shoulders like they did the rest of her body, or if they had been burned away by the scarring.  
  
Slowly, she committed every scar to memory. Every swirl, every raised mark from battle… They were a part of her wife. Something that was uniquely her… and she loved it.  
  
After a time had passed, Historia’s eyes grew heavier, and her breathing synced as she cuddled up to the Khal. She could worry about everything later. For now, she only wanted to rest with Ymir until she was forced to move by the late afternoon Sun and a slave coming in to alert the Khal of the ceremony in a short time.

* * *

 

In her dreams, Ymir saw herself standing before her father and a couple of men she did not recognize in a half-circle around her. A fire burned between them, consisting of a blue flame. Each man, heavily scarred, sat rather comfortably, as if they had been locked in the same position this entire time up until a minute prior and switched it up a bit. It would take the woman another second to observe their surroundings. This was no ordinary ceremonial tent. This tent was made of the night sky, stitched together by the threads of time itself and the ground littered with stars. The place she stood currently was one of fables, told in stories of only the great khals being permitted to take place and overseen by the Great Titan and the seers of each tribe. One spot remained empty, the largest of all, in the dead center.  
  
How the fuck did she manage to make it here? This was no common occurrence, and it was not like Ymir had done anything relatively special, other than win a battle. But for her, that was nothing. A common even every few months for a warlord.  
  
“ _My son,_ ” The man on the far left spoke. Another spoke up shortly, giving a bow of his head. “ _Sit._ ” Ymir narrowed her eyes at the former khal of her own tribe, her predecessor, the one who had spoken up first.  
  
“ _How am I only your son now?_ ” Now was not the time to be bitter. Besides, she had to be somewhat even-tempered to stay here, right? Then again, she wasn’t known for being the most civil. “ _If we are where I think we are, you should be aware it is ‘daughter’ not son. A sort of a ‘fuck you’ to Khal Rhymir and reminder to those who doubt me._ ”  
  
Her words pleased the others. With another gesture given to her to sit, Ymir did so, finding some furs beneath her - or something softer. As if she was sitting on a cloud from the sky.  
  
“ _If you managed to get a sitting spot here, this… night tribe is fucked up._ ” Ymir raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. “ _Why am I here?_ ”  
  
“ _The Great Titan has foreseen the coming of the Khal of Khals. He who fucks the world._ ” At this, the freckled khal’s eyes snapped wide open. The Khal of khals?  
  
The Khal of Khals was a direct blessing from the Great titan himself. He was said to be able to unite all of the tribes together into one singular unit. However, before he could accomplish complete harmony, he had crossed into the nightlands. His sons then split up, and from there had been the lines drawn between the Eotena. Thousands of years had passed since his great reign, and many waited for him to come back.  
  
“ _A blessing from the Great Titan, to the lightningstruck._ ”  
  
“ _Lightningstruck?_ ” Ymir furrowed her brow, confused. She opened her mouth to speak further, but found her tongue unable to move and her voice nonexistent.  
  
“ _Watch the skies._ ”  
  
As the sun began to reach the halfway point of its journey did Ymir begin to stir. It was slow, making up for the rather rushed awakening she had dealt with earlier, and her arm clung to the pillow she held just a bit tighter.  
  
Only it wasn’t a pillow, or any pillow she remembered on her bed. With her eyes remaining shut, Ymir moved her hand downward a bit, cupping something a bit softer and rounder, then moving back up again. It was warmer than a pillow, and not exactly soft in the sense of the cushions but not hard by any means. A bit more north were loose strands of some sort of silk… Again, nothing Ymir exactly remembered.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open, Ymir sniffing softly as she began to wake up and focus in on what she had been holding onto. A girl. Her Khaleesi. In her bed. Under her tent. In her arms outside of having sex, and in rather close proximity. And yet, Ymir did not immediately push her away, nor did she bring her closer. She was too stunned to do anything other than stare sleepily at the beautiful woman while trying to figure out how to react exactly.  
  
Clearly Ymir had been clinging to her. Some part of her subconscious must have been looking for some relief or… she didn’t know. All she knew was that it was her holding onto the blonde, and not a simply pillow. Her cheeks reddened at the thought and her features pulled together in a poor attempt of a scowl.  
  
Finally, she moved back, deciding she felt too attached to be doing something so embarrassing and weak as… holding the girl just because she felt like it. That was too intimate, and something a bit too emotional for the khal. She wasn’t supposed to be showing such a soft side. She was a khal for fuck’s sake! And yet…  
  
“ _I did not mean to do that._ ” Ymir mumbled under her breath, her head turned as she sniffed. “... _Breathe a word of this, I’ll have you killed._ ”  
The threat was very empty. More so the way she spoke. The khal shut her eyes once more and sighed, a curse uttered breathily. What had she been dreaming about? It was important, something about her father and lightning striking and the khal of khals…  
“ _The late Khal Rhymir is spitting in my direction right now._ ” She finally sat up, deciding to stretch her arms out as she moved to sit along the edge of the bed. Twisting her back one way, then the other, a couple of cracks met her ears much to ease her annoyance in herself. “ _Do not bother asking. I don’t even know._ ” One eye opened as she turned her head, huffing before deciding to study the young woman she had married and called her khaleesi.

* * *

 

The blonde had been perfectly content to stay right where she was, drifting in and out of sleep. It felt lazy to not be up and about, but her body didn’t complain. The rest felt nice, as did Ymir’s body pressed against her as she slept soundly as well. All great things came to an end though. Historia slowly woke from her sleep as her bottom was groped by her wife, unassumingly asleep.  
  
As Ymir moved back, Historia’s head lifted then fell back on the pillow, making her screw her eyes shut. She gave a small grunt, opening one eye to stare at her wife unhappily. Perhaps that was why no one stayed in the Khals tent. Rude awakenings.  
  
Historia sat up after a moment, shaking her head to wake herself. Her body wasn’t used to sleeping so late, and her brain remained foggy for a longer time. What had Ymir said? Something about having her killed? “Mm…” She could deal with fighting off her wife trying to kill her later, seeing as Ymir didn’t seem to be in a great rush to do so.  
  
Her gaze lingered on Ymir as she moved, following each muscle on her back as she subconsciously licked her lips. Gods be good, they had blessed her with a gorgeous wife…  
  
Ymir’s words slipped Historia out of her trance in time to meet her eyes. “ _I won’t, my Khal._ ” She said, moving over to sit behind Ymir a little and run her hand up and down Ymir’s back gently as her cheek rested on the scarred shoulder. “ _Whatever it is that weights on your shoulders you will figure it out in time._ ”  
  
Sitting up, Historia heard the movement of the front of the tent and moved a little farther away from Ymir. Eotena looked down upon intimate moments, and Historia didn’t want to cause Ymir to be shamed.  
  
Sasha appeared at the end of the short entrance way, bowing her head. “ _Khal Ymir, Khaleesi._ ” Standing up, she stared beyond Ymir and at Historia. At some point, Sasha had seen most of the tribe naked, and no longer felt the need to stare. “ _Khaleesi, your brother has a dress waiting for you in your tent for tonight if the Khal would be gracious enough to lend me your presence?_ ”  
  
Crawling to the edge of the bed, Historia stretched her weary limbs a little as she stood up straight. “ _I’m glad you’re alright._ ” The blonde said, combing out her hair the best she could so she looked a little more presentable and maybe more like she had recently laid with the Khal rather than slept and cuddled.  
  
The dress. It was probably hot outside the tent, and bound to get hotter right after the sunset. Knowing her brother, the material was beautiful and made for Historia, but it made her look foreign and made her feel unwelcome around the people she had married into. But also denying her brother’s gift would cause strife.  
  
Glancing to Ymir, Historia had made up her mind before logic had a chance to talk her out of it. “ _Sasha, bring me what the Eotena women wear to such an event, and braid my hair like they do._ ” Historia spoke in Eotena. “ _I also wish for you to wear the dress my brother has gifted me, as a token of my appreciation to you teaching me Eotena and tutoring me to be a better Khaleesi._ ”  
  
A small smile settled on Sasha’s mouth, bowing her head. “ _Ai, Khaleesi._ ” She said, ducking out of the tent once the orders were given.  
  
Turning back to Ymir with a barely-there teasing smile, Historia held back a chuckle. “ _Do you wish for me to return to the Khaleesi’s tent tonight, or do you wish for me to stay another night?_ ” She asked, before another slave came in to ready Ymir for the ceremony. “ _Until tonight, My Khal._ ”


	8. Milestones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, vacation is over, back to posting at a semi-decent time for those of us on the US East Coast.

It would take time to ready Historia’s outfit and braid her hair, but she made it well in time to enjoy the feast and the scarification ceremony. For the first time, she was accepted into the group of women in the tribe as they talked and gossiped about who would make a good husband or who they wished to marry their daughters off to. Really, they were no different than the women in castles.  
  
Meanwhile, she could feel the stare of her brother at her back, only held back by the crowd around them. Logic should have won out when it came to her choice of outfit that night.  
  
“ _Khaleesi, you should go sit with the Khal. Take her some wine._ ” One of the women spoke up, giving her a chalice of the deep red alcohol.   
  
“ _Show her how you look in the Khaleesi’s clothes and give us an heir!_ ” Another said, only to get swatted by Historia with a playful smile.  
  
“ _Yes, yes, I’m going._ ” She chuckled, putting on a brave face as she held the chalice in one hand and the other went to grab for the length of her dress, but coming up with none. It was habit. Wearing pants, while comfortable in the heat and more breathable, was foreign to the young queen. Midriff exposed by the top hand stitched to fit her chest, she felt more naked than she had in a long time, but this is what their people wore.  
  
Climbing up the small set of stairs leading up to the Khal’s seat, one of the warriors left his in order to give the khaleesi space to sit next to her wife. Historia handed over the chalice before leaning over to whisper in Ymir’s ear. “ _For my brave Khal, and all she does to protect us._ ”  
  
The roaring cheers were louder than Historia had ever heard during a celebration as the female warrior, Mikasa, got her new scar to prove her strength. “ _Does it hurt, my Khal? To be burned?_ ”  
  


* * *

 

The scarring ceremony was one always held in celebration over a tribe defeated by their own. It dated back to many years, commemorating a time when warriors used to once grow out their hair as a symbol of being undefeated, but proved to get in the way and trip up some khals. It was after one ruler in a different tribe a few hundred years ago that changed the way a warrior was viewed. If a warrior was defeated and not enslaved, as a way to humiliate them further, they would be skinned to an extent where the larger scars once stood, leaving just a blank slate upon the skin.  
  
There were specific scars to get. Some designed for the khal, the bigger ones going to the warriors that proved themselves best in battle. The order went from the smaller earned scars, the younger usually, to those who deserve them the most, with the khal always being last.  
  
This would be Ymir’s twentieth mark as a khal. A significant number, and seen as quite the feat at her age. To think, she had only been ruling for five, six years, and to have a high number, let alone the sizes and designs… Somewhere in the Night Lands, her parents were smiling down on her. And in the back of her mind she was flipping them off and all those she had killed.   
  
As Ymir sat and watched, she found her eyes drifting over now and again to the khaleesi. Historia had spoken of wearing eotena garb before in front of her, but Ymir had thought maybe that had been just for show. An eyebrow remained quirked, her lips curling in a smile simply happy to see her in the outfits her people wore. Not that the foreign clothes didn’t look nice, no, but there was something that started a fire in her belly seeing her in traditional wear, conversing with other women in the tribe.  
  
Marco stepped forward, sitting beside the khal on the other side as he looked forward and watched as another warrior was branded. His scar had been created a little earlier, five men before, resulting in a swirled pattern on his right outer bicep. Ymir allowed herself to watch the ceremony once more, ignoring Marco leaning closer to talk to her better.  
  
“ _She’s starting to look more like a khaleesi._ ” He commented. Ymir gave a grunt in reply. She was not in much mood for conversation, her stomach honestly in slight knots over the pain she would be dealing with soon. She’d wear it with pride, but that didn’t mean the process didn’t hurt. “ _And you are starting to look lightningstruck._ ”  
  
Lightningstruck? Right, from her dream–  
  
“ _My old man came to visit me in a dream last night,_ ” She admitted, her eyes focused more on the fire a few meters away. This perked Marco’s interest, as Ymir never spoke of these things unless she deemed them somewhat important - which was very rare. “ _I was in the Night Lands, other khals I assume, men I did not recognize. I do not remember much, but they said the same thing. However I have not seen any lightningstrikes, nor has there been any storms recently. ‘Watch the skies.’ they said._ ”  
  
Marco hit her shoulder. “ _A one true match blessed by the Great Titan himself! Or about to be - I did not know the great Khal Ymir could love anyone romantically! Or at all, really._ ” That earned the man a hit right back, right where his new scar was. Ymir felt little guilt at his hiss in pain.  
  
“ _No, no, that is not what lightningstruck means - does it? I do not remember, I did not care much for children’s stories._ ”  
  
“ _It was not just a children’s story! There was a time the Great Titan saw a love at its purest form and thus blessed the couple accordingly - it’s not a common occurrence and is only done when He feels the couple have earned it. Remember?_ ”  
  
Ymir snorted, though if paid any attention to one could see her face begin to glow red in embarrassment. Of course, Marco caught it, and smiled in response. “ _I think you are mixing up your tales. It is about where the khal of khals shall be reborn._ ”  
  
“And I thought you did not care for children’s stories…” Ymir rolled her eyes, giving a wave of her hand to signal she was checked out. The last thing she wanted was anyone overhearing her conversation with her advisor and blood of blood. Not that anyone would be eavesdropping, exactly…  
  
Just as he had sat down, Marco had left. Another would leave too, Levi, to join the ranks of the scarring and his spot would be filled by none other than her wife. Thinking perhaps something alcoholic would take her mind a bit farther way from the ritual, Ymir accepted the chalice happily and took a nice swig. The sweet red juice spilled down her throat, burning a delicious path on its way down.  
  
Did it hurt? Of course. Would ymir ever admit that aloud? “ _Fuck no!_ ” Ymir insisted, forcing a hearty laugh. An answer to her thought process and denial as well as to Historia. “ _What pain is felt burns away and is replaced with honor._ ” A bit better.  
  
She’d hesitate a moment, taking another long drink and effectively emptying her cup before placing it down and dropping her hand down onto the ground. By accident, her fingers landed atop the blonde’s, causing the khal to turn her head, as well as another shade of crimson. Still, she did not remove her hand, but gently curl her digits around Historia’s hand, clearing her throat. Okay, so she was a bit nervous. Though the act was a bit odd, especially in public, it felt… right.   
  
“ _You are not wearing your brother’s clothes._ ” Ymir noted, if anything to distract from what she had done and currently continuing to do by holding her hand. “ _You look… more like a khaleesi._ ” Okay, now the wine was starting to kick in. It always hit Ymir fast - not strong, but fast. “ _The moon hangs low in jealousy._ ”  
  
As Levi earned a new scar and the crowd cheered for the umpteenth time that night, Ymir stood, releasing her hold on Historia and setting her jaw. Any softness or break in her usual mask disappeared and the khal was back to her ferocity. The khalasar stood as Ymir strode forward to the center and gave a jilt of her head while showing off a cocky grin. She always felt a lot more sure of herself with the roaring of her people…  
  
A hot iron was forced onto her arm, bearing the pattern of, ironically, what Ymir would call a lightning bolt. Similar to the pattern between her shoulders of tiger stripes, though not nearly as thick. After all, today’s battle was nothing like the six the ones closer to her head told. Other than the twitch of her mouth, Ymir showed no pain, and the cheers were louder. Once given the clear to walk away, Ymir signaled for the feast to continue, and dancing begin to take place as Ymir took her seat.  
  
“ _... I need more wine._ ” She admitted, gesturing to a slave to bring her more.  
  


* * *

Months ago, Historia couldn’t imagine being so taken with someone like Ymir. The warrior was a pawn in her brother’s attempt to raise an army, and Historia was the bargaining chip. Neither of them were in this for love, as she had always imagined her wedding to be, but for war. As she sat beside Ymir, Historia wasn’t able to wholly deny that love was possible.

Her bravery in the face of pain, her willingness to wake from a dead sleep to fight for her people, her gentle personality that she hid from the world except for Historia. It was what warmed her heart and calmed her soul.   
  
It was what made her feel like she had a home, despite not having settled down in one place for more than a night or two.  
  
Keeping her eyes on the ceremony in front of her, Historia’s lips quirked up into a smile as Ymir’s hand fell atop hers and curled around it. No reason to look over and make everyone wonder what was going on. Instead, Historia gave her fingers a soft squeeze to let her know she appreciated the gesture.  
  
Historia sat back as Ymir brought her lack of Sinian formal wear to attention. Such praise was uncommon to her, but it made her chest swell with pride nonetheless. Though the decision to let Sasha wear the dress had upset her brother, it pleased her wife and gained her more acceptance into the people they were tasked with ruling.  
  
“ _I am glad you think so._ ” She said, brushing her thumb across the length of Ymir’s fingers. “ _The dresses are beautiful, but I am not my brother, and I hold no rule to Sina. I am a Khaleesi of the Eotena, and I felt like I should dress as our people dress._ ” Besides, the Eotena clothes were much more comfortable. There was no boning to keep her from breathing, or layers to get caught while riding the horses. It would take time to get used to, but Historia didn’t see much of a downside besides upsetting her brother.  
  
Before too long, it was Ymir’s turn to go under the iron for her ceremonial scar.  
  
The tiny blonde stood with the rest of the Khalasar, watching as Ymir played up to them. Giving a tiny growl of frustration at not being able to see, she tapped Marco’s shoulder softly and used him as support as she stood atop the seat she had taken earlier. The woes of a petite born Sina woman.  
  
A quiet whine left Historia as she heard the sound of the iron pressed to flesh, her stomach turning sour. Her hand tightened on Marco’s shoulder out of reflex and a need for comfort.   
  
Ymir had told her it hurt, but it was replaced by pride quickly. Even then Historia worried about it getting infected through fire and burning was the best way to seal a wound. If one cut on her thumb gave her so much trouble, how much would Ymir fight her about putting salve on the wound before Historia left for her own tent in the night?  
  
“ _Such a weak stomach for a Khaleesi,_ ” Marco said, quiet enough for Historia to hear as he lifted a hand to put on hers.  
  
“ _I understood that._ ” She replied, both of them looking at one another for a tense moment before breaking into smiles.  
  
Ymir’s scarring finished, Historia took Marco’s offered hand to help her down and apologized for her sudden actions, earning a laugh and a ruffle of her hair. A Khaleesi of the most frightening Khal in history and she was still getting her hair ruffled like a child.  
  
Taking her seat again, she smiled at her wife. “ _The scar fits you, my Khal._ ” She said, admiring the pattern on her arm with a tilt of her head as she passed off a glass of wine to Ymir and took a sip of her own.  
  
With Ymir’s permission to continue the celebration up roared once again. The celebration was loud and rowdy, as Historia had come to know and somewhat appreciate.   
  
Weddings, scarring ceremonies, births of high born Eotena… It was tradition. And yet, her stomach still didn’t settle well with the first kill of the night. At least it pleased the Great Titan and reassured the Khal that she was doing right by them.  
  
Historia raised a hand to rest on Ymir’s for a second to catch her attention before leaning over. “ _You look tired from last night. Do you want to return to your tent with me?_ ” She asked, worrying at her lip with her teeth before standing up to leave.  
  
Sasha stood as well once Historia did, only to be met with a kind smile and wave. “It’s alright. Ymir will take me back to the tent. Stay. Have fun.” She said, ducking out of the tent and making their way through the cool night air to Ymir’s tent. The celebration would go for hours, and they wouldn’t be missed too much. After all, being triumphant in battle apparently lead to a good night in bed, as one of the Eotena women had told her.  
  
Stepping into the Khal’s tent, Historia went over to a basket she had been going through while Ymir was away and found a small pot of ointment. “ _Will you fight me if I ask to put this on your burn for the night?_ ” Historia said over her shoulder before standing up. “Only to ease the discomfort not covered by your pride.” The idea of fur getting into the wound wasn’t appealing to Historia, and would rather save her wife the trouble.  
  


* * *

 

The approval given by her wife about her scar forced the smallest of grins, just a faint trace, to ghost her lips. Of course it fit her! It was big and drew some attention, yet kept the marks by her neck the biggest and boldest still. For a moment Ymir was distracted by the compliment her wife had given her and she forgot the exact pattern as her eyes went to the wine she was handed and stared into the dark red liquid once more.  
  
A small snrk was given. Then down the hatch went the alcoholic beverage. All in one take was her drink finished and Ymir put down her cup rather roughly just as it appeared someone had died. Perfect. Even her father’s celebrations were not quite this rowdy after merely a battle. And a quick, weak one at that by a rather foolish khal. Though, in Ymir’s eyes, the man did not deserve the title, deceased or not. No, she would call him a fake khal. The fake khal chose to try an attack before the sun had risen and still lost by such a cheap tactic.  
  
Maybe that’s why this celebration was bigger than usual for such a battle. After all, the other tribe had an upper hand, and Ymir still came out on top, with her khalasar barely scathed and maybe seven casualties to her fighters. That was nothing. Ymir had so many warriors, she could not keep track. Then again, any number higher than forty was too much for her.  
  
Historia’s voice brought her out of her thought process and caused the freckled khal to raise an eyebrow in slight confusion. She wanted to go back to their tent now? Honestly, Ymir had been tired earlier, but right now she was fine, other than in pain that she could not show to her tribe mates. How weak, the khal thought of herself, to have gone through this ritual over twenty times, and still have a had time managing after from a little burn. Well, big burn. Scar. Whatever. It was pathetic nonetheless.  
  
Or her wife wanted to have sex. That sounded like an excuse to lay together and continue the crazy sex they had been having the past two weeks. Ymir could ignore what was going on with her arm for sex.  
  
Ymir wanted to impress Historia for some reason, say something in her native tongue. However, she knew absolutely nothing in Historia’s language really. Besides, the khal did not want to look like she was adopting foreign culture in her own lands. At the same time, with so many of these Sinian people popping around, like that Reiner guy and Historia’s brother Irvin or whatever, it would do her best to learn a little.  
  
She wracked her brain for the word, not answering her khaleesi with anything but a simple grunt and waited for her to talk in her funny language to Sasha. With her opportunity, Ymir looked to Marco and mumbled quietly.  
  
“ _What is the word for ‘stay’ in…?_ ” The man looked confused, but answered quickly with “Stay _, my Khal._ ” just as Ymir could turn her head back to Historia and see she had finished giving Sasha whatever order she had. Watching the handmaiden Ymir made a slight face, stroking her chin absently with her good hand. She had taught Historia her tricks, had she not?  
  
Perhaps Sasha deserved some recognition back. Her father may have been a traitor, but she had at least proven herself useful in making her wife the best she ever had. She deserved a good husband. Or to be allowed to fight again and more freedom to hunt with the others. She was good with a bow after all.  
  
Ymir got up and followed, motioning that the festivities could continue while she was gone. Who knew if she would return or not. Either way, there were a few more cheers and with each step Ymir was beginning to look more forward to getting to sleep and just how tired she really was began to hit her. Still, she wanted to get laid, and she had every intention on doing so as she followed Historia into the Khal’s tent. Wasn’t there a saying about how a successful battle meant a bigger triumph in bed?  
  
The dark-haired woman slowed her pace, attempting to grab more attention to her, before scowling as she realized what Historia was doing. No, she was not going to put ointment on a ceremonial scar! That went more against tradition that the idea of a woman sharing the same bed as a khal. Only the newest of warriors, the ones receiving a scar for the first time, would leave with a small covering of sorts, but never any medicine, and they never kept it covered. Air and dirt were the best medicine for all wounds.  
  
“ _To do so would be worse than you staying the night._ ” Ymir intended to do the same as she had always done, pain or not. Her pride was too great. “ _Not even a council thing. It’s weak. And shameful. Who would put anything on a ceremonial scar other than a new warrior? Fuck no._ ”  
  


* * *

 

Why Historia ever thought that Ymir wouldn’t put up a fight was unknown. Ymir was stubborn and prideful. Gods forbid anyone ever place a bandage over an open wound so she would not catch the Rot and end up with the Great Titan himself.  
  
Still, the thought that she was bringing shame to her wife hurt. Of course she would. Marrying a foreign woman and softening the way she looked in front of her Khalasar, Ymir had to have already felt like she was walking a blade’s edge.  
  
Having angered her brother already, why not continue the trend of disappointing those close to her?  
  
“ _That is fine. I will not shame you again by staying the night._ ” She said, walking toward Ymir with the small pot in her hands. “ _But that does not mean that I am leaving without making sure your arm will not rot off the bone._ ” Historia sat down, tugging Ymir down with her.   
  
She wasn’t aware of when she gained such a strong tongue, but she had. Now that there was no language barrier (or the language barrier was minimal), Historia could communicate properly and found herself more eloquent with her wife than she ever had been with her brother. Ymir didn’t look down upon her when she spoke, though she seemed amused more often than not.  
  
Opening the pot, she took a small bit on her fingertips and held Ymir’s arm with her free hand. Gingerly, Historia spread a moderate layer of the ointment over the new would-be scar, careful of the tender area.   
  
“ _After all, what strikes more fear,_ ” Historia glanced up at Ymir for a second, “ _A Khal with a festering wound or a Khal who seemingly heals overnight?_ ” She continued to smooth it out slowly until it had mostly soaked into Ymir’s skin, keeping her head down. She didn’t want to see the look Ymir was giving her.  
  
The blonde released Ymir’s arm once she was sure that it was protected for the night and no trace would be seen by the morning lest her wife die of her wilted pride.  
  
Turning her back, she returned the ointment to the basket. She proceeded to let her hair down out of the braids that kept it out of her face as she walked back, standing in front of Ymir but did not look up. Rather, she focused her attention to the fur where she had been sitting. “Are you upset with my actions, my Khal?” She asked, letting out a steady breath.  
  
Blue eyes looked to amber for a moment, before she righted her head now that her hair was free to fall as it would. “ _I will not apologize for trying to take care of someone I care for, but I will apologize for doing so against your wishes._ "   
  
Her teeth worried at her lip a little, trying to ease her rising anxiety about Ymir being potentially angry at her. Having come so far to screw up would be a large step back in their marriage, but her actions were out of concern and not rebellion.  
  


* * *

 

That was not what Ymir had been trying to get across. Sure, it was odd for the khaleesi to be staying with her overnight, taboo really that it had happened once at all. At this rate, it did not seem like it would be happening again. Or that Historia was all that happy with her. Hopefully she could use her dick to fix that.  
  
There was no way out of getting her arm treated to. The command in her wife’s voice forced Ymir’s eyes to widen slightly, out of surprise and a bit out of fear. Historia was intimidating in her own way, Ymir would admit. Those dark blue eyes that resembled the poisoned, salty waters that separated her lands with the lands of the blonde’s birth we enough to cause Ymir to pause.   
  
Yet Ymir had never seen such authority before in Historia. It could use a little work, but with that kind of attitude, perhaps Historia could prove to be a useful khaleesi other than a pretty thing for people to look at and skillful between the pillows. There was a fire there that was looking for a way to get out, and it seemed when Ymir pushed her in just the right way, not make her fear her exactly but test her patience, it brought out this girl she was just getting a glimpse of now.   
  
And she liked it. That felt more real than the way she walked about now with her posture more submissive. If anything, she was worse when around that brother of her’s who acted completely ridiculous. No, the only times it seemed Historia was acting like herself and not hiding as much was when they were intimate with one another, alone for the most part, and moments like, well, this. It made Ymir feel a sense of pride, excited even, and sort of brought a different rush of blood to her groin. Somehow she’d find a way to bring this side out of Historia more, forced her to be true to herself and fierce for their people.  
  
… Their people? When did it become their people? It was Ymir’s people, not Historia’s people and her own. Yet, it had a nice ring in her head. _Their people_ …  
  
All this went around and around in her head as Historia tended to her wound with the salve and protected. Her arm was released, as was the spell, and Historia went back to putting things away. Ymir faltered, about to ask if they were still going to have sex or not because she was still turned on and she didn’t want to sleep with a hard on… Granted, she could grab a slave, but since Historia had insisted on looking upon her face, Ymir couldn’t bring herself to have sex with anyone else.  
  
She stared, not speaking as she waited for Historia to pick herself back up again. It did not quite happen. She was down on herself and worried she upset Ymir, which she had, but still.   
  
The words were not coming to Ymir. The freckled khal tried, only to find nothing good enough to say in her brain and she ended up standing up, her muscles working on their own accord, and slowly brought a hand up to caress the side of her wife’s face.  
  
And then Ymir did something she had never done in her life before: she kissed her. It wasn’t that quick, as she wanted to watch her aim of course and actually hit her lips with her own, but it wasn’t the slowest of gestures either. The most Ymir had ever done was kiss her mother’s cheek, but anything related to kissing was outside her knowledge. Never had she had sex and kissed. A kiss was one of the most private things two people could do. While Ymir was not aware of how it was in Historia’s culture, she wondered for a brief moment as she somewhat clumsily moved her lips.  
  
Pulling away, Ymir opened her eyes, barely aware she had even closed them when she had leaned in. The khal waited, her eyes slitted slightly though she tried her best to show she approved of how Historia had spoken. Ymir wasn’t angry exactly, she was impressed.  
  


* * *

 

A tense moment passed between the couple, turning Historia’s stomach into knots the longer the silence lingered between them. She had become rather well versed in reading Ymir in the past few days, but there was a lot going on in her own mind that she couldn’t read her body language nor see past her flat affect.  
  
It took all of her self control not to flinch when Ymir stood up and touched her face, though her teeth bit into her lip a little harder. So familiar with Erwin’s seemingly kind actions, she expected a slap to come, or her jaw to be held with less than careful hands; something to tell her she had done wrong and a threat to hurt her if she dared defy her again.  
  
But the touch she was met with was tender, easing Historia back down slightly from her worries.  
  
In a blink of an eye, Ymir was closer, and Historia could see every freckle across the bridge of her nose like stars in the sky as her eyes widened. Soft lips upon her own, she went on instinct and shut her own eyes. A hand came up to rest on the flat of Ymir’s stomach and the other wrapping around the raised arm, holding her in place.  
  
She had never kissed anyone before. Then again, their whole relationship had been beyond backward to Historia. Marrying a woman, one she had no idea who she was beyond gossip and stories, unable to speak a common tongue. They had sex. They were learning to talk. And now such an affectionate gesture.  
  
As Ymir’s lips moved against hers, Historia’s head tilted, returning the movement briefly before Ymir pulled away. She opened her eyes slowly, her mouth hanging open slightly as her brain caught up with the moment. Dark blue irises contrasted with the pink coloring her face, a smile making itself prominent on her lips. She hated to say it, but she could easily find herself spoiled and too used to gestures like that over fancy celebrations and dresses.  
  
Her eyes settled on Ymir’s, noticing her features had softened now that her head was no longer racing.  
  
Taking the change in expression as what it was, she turned her head more into Ymir’s hand and gently pressed her lips to the scar left behind from the night she first snuck into Ymir’s tent. “ _If that was your way of telling me to shut my mouth, I could get used to that._ ” She said teasingly before her hand moved down Ymir’s stomach to the top of her pants.  
  
Historia knew her job as a wife didn’t stop at making sure Ymir’s arm wasn’t going to fall off, and she was still very proud of the Khal for fighting like she did for their people. Seeing her control a room like she could, and the way she could go from the Khal to her wife had warmed her from the inside.  
  
It was now her duty to make it up to her for being a pain in her neck.

***

Laying against Ymir’s shoulder, Historia slid her leg down the brunette’s as her lips made a lazy trail down her neck and attacking a place she had found while Ymir and her were celebrating the new scar and their new addition to their sex life.  
  
She pulled back, rested her head on her arm as she looked down at Ymir with a small smile. “ _Do you wish for me to stay, My Khal?_ ” She asked, hoping the answer would be the same as the night before. Not only had she found Ymir’s bed and arms to be the most comfortable place, Historia’s body wasn’t all that keen on moving. She was ‘well fucked’ as Ymir would so crudely call it.

* * *

 

The gesture proved to be enough and then some. Though embarrassed, the khal could now breathe a bit easier after having her rather intimate signal of affection being taken for what it was, and met with a sweet kiss simply to her hand. Historia had been around long enough to learn of customs by now and surely knew what Ymir meant by it. A teasing comment later and the removal of some Eotena garb, Ymir got what she really wanted after a celebration that she felt she deserved.  
  
Kissing was an odd thing. Pressing one’s lips to another’s mouth in an attempt to show any feelings was weird. It felt right in a way, and yet it was so foreign to Ymir. She had initiated a kiss earlier, but she had not exactly given Historia permission to kiss her on the blonde’s own terms. But it happened, again and again and again throughout the night. Ymir loved it. It added a new depth to their sex life, as they seemed to keep doing with every session they had with another, and there was something there that made her attraction to the woman, her desire to keep the khaleesi around her more, just all the more stronger.  
  
As they lay there collecting themselves after a rather more strenuous engagement than Ymir had planned - she just wanted to be ridden and go to sleep honestly but that didn’t happen - the freckled warlord could only sleepily trace imaginary patterns into the blonde’s hip and wait for her mind to become less muddled. There were marks now upon the khaleesi’s skin, from which Ymir could only think of how their kissing about must have caused them. It was the only explanation.  
  
The question brought Ymir’s head up, vaguely aware she had been staring off into the void at the way the candlelight shone against the cream colored skin of her lover. Her eyes trailed upward to look the Reiss descendant in the eyes and think carefully about how to respond. Sure enough, Historia had recalled their conversation the previous night regarding ‘should’ and ‘want’ being two different things. Of course Historia would change her question. Now she was putting Ymir even more on the spot.  
  
“ _Ai,_ ” She answered simply. “Stay,” Ymir adjusted slightly, her shoulder aching from how they currently lay, though she did not want to move Historia at all. Not… yet. She would definitely before the girl fell asleep or she drifted off herself.  
  
Yet her body did not seem to follow what her mind told her. Or Historia, though in her defense Ymir hadn’t stated her thought process aloud. Historia was practically asleep from what she could tell, and the khal could not find it in herself to just shove her off. Not after the day she had gone through. The great strong khal Ymir could not push away the almost fragile looking, interesting and remarkable woman she called her khaleesi. When did Ymir become so… so…  
  
Weak didn’t feel right. There was some other word but she could not place her finger on it. Then again, since when did a khal need to know so many words for things? The thought brought a smirk to Ymir’s face as she unknowingly brought Historia closer to her and fell asleep.  
  
That night she would experience no dreams. The sun came once again much sooner than the khal’s liking, but it was easier for her to rise and she was able to do so instead of sleep in. Another piece of her rose as well, to which she decided to bring to Historia’s attention once she woke seeing as she was already there. A quick round in the morning to wake them up, and Ymir was dressed and ready to face the day as she stepped outside the tent.  
  
Part of her had not wanted to leave until she could smell the stench of blood from the fight of yesterday. Another had stayed due to the fatigue of her men, as well as the need for a celebration. Though she wanted to stay a bit more, doing so would be lazy and possibly bring question to her khalship. Sure enough as traveled further to talk to Marco, the smell of blood hit her nostrils. Ymir grinned proudly for a moment and inhaled deeply.  
  
That was the smell of victory. She could be as prideful as she damn well wanted.  
  
A voice brought her attention elsewhere as Marco approached her. Of course to talk about last night and go into detail about Ymir’s previous dream. Little did she recognize Historia’s little handmaiden following them…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eotena kissing? What's next? Actual feelings? Ugh, how disgusting.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talking about character growth: here we go.

Riding toward the back of the royal pack, Historia sighed and leaned forward on her horse to relieve the pressure in her back. While she was no longer afraid of her horse (really, she loved the Silver dearly) it didn’t make it any easier riding them when her wife had given her quite the ride the night before and that morning. But the riding was making her sick.  
  
“Khaleesi,” the handmaiden rode up beside her, concern riddling her face.  
  
Historia sat up again, raising a hand to let Sasha know she was alright. “Any word from my brother?” She still hadn’t spoken with Erwin since a day before the attack on their khalasar. The dress incident remained unspoken about between the siblings.  
  
“He wasn’t in the best of moods this morning, Khaleesi. I do not advise you to speak with him alone until his anger calms.” Sasha stated, trying to protect her friend. “There is something else I wanted to to speak with you about.”  
  
“Is there something wrong?” Historia looked over, adjusting on her horse to help with the sickness.  
  
Sasha shook her head, a small smile on her face. “It’s great news! I shouldn’t be telling you about what I heard the Khal speak about with Marco, but I thought you should know.”  
  
Something she shouldn’t know? Was there something Ymir was hiding from her? Pulling her horse over to the edge of the path so the two of them could talk, she looked over her shoulder and shook her head to Reiner to let him know to hold back but to stop. “Tell me, Sasha.”  
  
A smile over took the handmaiden’s features, bouncing a little in her seat. “I heard the Khal talking about a dream she had last night. She was in the Night Lands with her great ancestors!”  
  
Historia furrowed her brow. The Night Lands? Why was Ymir in the supposed afterlife? “Ymir got a premonition?”  
  
“To an extent, yes, Khaleesi.” She said, taking a deep breath. “They spoke of lightning striking and the Khal of Khals being on their way!” Her voice fell to a hushed whisper, though the terms went over Historia’s head.  
  
“Lightning striking? Khal of Khals? Lightning doesn’t strike in the desert– Isn’t Ymir the Khal of Khals?” She shook her head to try and clear it.  
  
“Lightning striking is the sign of a true couple. One blessed by the Great Titan because they have pleased him.” Sasha explained, keeping her eye out for anyone listening in. “The Khal of Khals is said to be the child born that unites all the tribes and takes over the world, Khaleesi. It is an omen for you and the Khal.”  
  
A pale hand came up to rest on her stomach, furrowing her brow for a moment. “You’re sure that’s what they mean?”  
  
“Ai, Khaleesi. I’ve been told all the stories.” Sasha said, gently bumping Historia. “Keep your eyes out for storms. The sign will come very soon.”  
  
The entire situation was making her head spin and her stomach more queasy. She needed a break.  
  
“Ser Reiner,” Historia called, beckoning the man under her command closer. “Tell them to stop.” The blonde girl spoke, bundling up the reigns of her horse to get down.  
  
“Everybody? For how long?” Reiner asked, galloping up to stop at Historia’s side and steady her horse in order to climb down.  
  
Historia mused for a few seconds, rubbing her stomach. She needed time to calm down her mind and stomach. “Until I command otherwise.”  
  
Reiner gave her a semi-impressed look, shrugging a little as he turned to address the horde.  
  
While her command was being given, Historia disappeared into the thicke, glad to be off her horse if only for a short walk.  
  
Coming into a short clearing, Historia looked up to the sky and let out a heavy sigh. She couldn’t wait to arrive to Vaas Eotena and not have to ride for a while. Unless there was a battle in which they needed her. Apparently since her lessons in Eotena and interacting with the tribe, she was good for morale.  
  
The sound of horse hooves distracted her, putting her on high alert for anything that could attack her. The only thing to emerge was her brother on horseback, which was still something she was terrified to face alone.  
  
“How dare you give orders to me?” Erwin said as he swung off his horse, taking a few steps toward Historia only for instincts to do the stupidest thing she could have done: turn to run back to the khalasar, or to get the help of Reiner.  
  
Stopping herself, she turned back, trying to calm her brother down as quickly as possible. “I wasn’t giving you orde–” Before she could finish, his hand was around her throat and her small hands were at his wrist, trying to pry him off. She had no chance of getting away from him. He was faster, and stronger than her. His height alone gave him leverage against his smaller sister.  
  
Erwin held her in place, moving his face closer to hers. “I will be the King of Sina and I don’t take orders from savages or their half-breed titan sluts!” He yelled, tightening his grip around her throat as she tried to get him to release her throat. “I could choke you and leave you here for dead and not lose a single nights sleep because you angered the titan…” Her vision was going dark from the lack of oxygen, her body scrambling to do anything it could to get air.  
  
He had never gone so far in his attacks. Slapping her, pinching her cheeks until they bruised, throwing her into walls. His blood was pumping, and the sick smirk on his face was showing how much this pleased him.  
  
As he started to take another breath to continue yelling, the sound of a whip broke the moment of Erwin’s control, wrapping around Erwin’s throat and pulling him to the ground in a quick ripping moment, releasing Historia’s airways and restricting his.  
  
Sasha was next into the clearing, after Marco. The handmaiden ran to her mistress, who had fallen to the ground once she was able to breathe.  
  
Her small body took in as much air as she could, on the brink of tears. Everything had been so dark… So close to death…  
  
“ _Do you want me to kill him, Khaleesi?_ ” Marco asked, looking between the woman and the blond man struggling on the ground to get a breath in.  
  
“Don’t harm him, please!” Historia interrupted, trying to get up from the ground with Sasha’s help, holding her up. She couldn’t remember any words of Eotena, relying on Marco’s Sinian to be efficient, or Sasha to translate.  
  
“ _Khaleesi, he hurt you! He should die for–_ ”  
  
Historia took a deep breath as she released Sasha, focusing not only her anger at Erwin, but her fear as well, into the strength behind her words. “ _I said, do not harm him!_ ”  
  
In a momentary stare down, Marco eventually slackened the whip and coiled it back, sending Erwin bolting upright to breathe. Marco continued to stare him down, spitting at the blond man’s feet and leading his horse over to Historia for her protection.  
  
“I want him killed! Reiner! Kill this bastard!” Erwin yelled, scrambling to his feet to find Reiner nowhere in sight, instead faced with the two Eotena tribe members and his sister.  
  
Anger, fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins, she was able to stand still, staring down her brother. She wanted to snort at his commands. Some king he would be, but it was still his birthright. His worth was not up to her opinion.  
  
“ _Marco._ ” Historia said, her brain now able to string together a little Eotena, looking up at the warrior. “ _Not a word to Ymir._ ”  
  
“ _Ai, Khaleesi._ ” Marco replied with a sigh like it was a burden not to tell the Khal as he offered a hand to the Khaleesi to ride upon his horse back to her own.  
  
Giving her brother one last look, Historia spoke to her handmaiden, making sure Erwin could hear her. “Sasha, bring his horse would you? I require a second horse to put my items on.“ Passive aggressive, but it got the point across.  
  
Sasha, with a devious smirk, grabbed the horses reins and climbed a top the horse with ease. “See you tonight, your grace.” Not before she told Ymir of what had transpired here. Marco was sworn to secrecy. She was not.  


* * *

 

“ … _Marco was ready to kill him at the Khaleesi’s command, but she insisted he be let go. He had her by the throat! Had Marco and I been a few footsteps slower…_ “  
  
Yes, Sasha had come to tell her about the events that had transpired while they tribe was traveling north. Being the mighty khal, it was important for Ymir to lead her people as they headed back towards Vaas Eotena or if they were moving at all. It was a part of being a khal - leading. What good was a khal that could not ride their horse at the head of the line?  
  
The freckled leader growled in disgust as she thought over what Sasha had recounted for her and narrowed her eyes. “ _He is a snake. He deserves to be killed for acting in such a way._ ” Ymir spat on the ground to show how upset she was and angered. Her gaze then turned to Marco, narrowing her eyes. “ _And you - what kind of blood does not report such important goings on?!_ ”  
  
“ _Khaleesi ordered him to not tell! I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I was never sworn to anything! It would be shameful for me to not tell you what happened today. Khal Ymir, Marco would have told you otherwise._ “ The handmaiden sighed as Marco hung his head somewhat shamefully and admitted that she spoke the truth. Ymir struggled with what was the right course of action, let alone the next one, as she rubbed her chin. Finally, she gave a nod, signaling she was pardoning Marco and turned her attention to Sasha once more.  
  
“ _I will not allow this to happen again, but should it come close to it, I want to know immediately. No waiting around. I will kill him myself. Should she ask to keep information such as this from me, I demand to be informed at once regardless of her orders._ ” Ymir sighed and ran a hand through her hair, a rather humble gesture though she tried not to draw much attention to it. “ _It seems my wife cannot live with the death of her brother, yet, so he shall live to see another day. But he must be punished… Keep his horse. It is yours. Do not give him another_.”  
  
The girl hesitated, then quickly bowed her head. “ _Ai, my Khal!_ ” And off she went to return to her mistress’ side. Marco cleared his throat awkwardly in an attempt to dispel any tension between them. Ymir simply shook her head.  
  
“ _You were following orders, as people should with what she says. But at the end of the day, I am khal. My word trumps._ ” Her own words made her think, furrowing her brow. Another heavy pause filled the air as Ymir decided to ask a similar question she had before, only weeks prior. “ _What is the khalasar’s view of the khaleesi?_ ”  
  
“ _She is very beautiful._ ”  
  
“ _No, no. I mean, what do they think of her, other than appearance wise? If she were to order anyone else, do you think they would follow?_ “ Marco hesitated, before repeating the same remark as before.  
  
“ _She is very beautiful._ ” Ymir’s gaze hardened as Marco shook his head. “T _hat is all they think. She is still foreign and meek. That is all I know. Is something wrong, blood of my—?_ ”  
  
“ _Bring Khaleesi to me_.” She demanded, standing as she spoke. When he dawdled, the woman gave a gesture with her head to the entrance of the tent. “ _Tell her I request her presence and bring her to me. That is an order_.”  
  
With that, Marco exited the tent, leaving his freckled kin alone for a few moments. In this time, she paced about, wondering how to execute her plan. She was going to make Historia someone a bit more equal than just another woman in their tribe. Without ‘Khaleesi’ backing her up, Historia was essentially nothing. Ymir was going to find a way to turn her into a woman to be feared, sort of like her. If anything, to get her brother to learn his place.  
  
It had taken her years to learn how to properly walk and become a leader. Years. She needed to teach her wife how to command presence and earn her title more as Khaleesi, and preferably in less time than it took Ymir. Otherwise? Historia would never be taken seriously. Hopefully, she would be a quick learner. Then again, she had been so far with everything else.  
  
At the appearance of blonde hair Ymir visibly straightened up. That would be her wife. Marco was there and just like that she signaled him to leave the two of them alone. No, nothing sex related going on in her tent, just the beginning of Ymir trying to teach Historia to take command.  
  
Well, a part of it.  


* * *

 

“I’m sorry Khaleesi!” Sasha whimpered, head hidden in the blonde Queen’s lap. She had tried to remain passive and not let Historia know that she had told the khal of the happenings in the thrush, but one look from her mistress took away all resolve. How could she lie to someone who held so much trust in her? “Please don’t banish me, Khaleesi! I was doing what was best for you so you wouldn’t get hurt!”  
  
A small smile lingered on Historia’s face. One hand gently petting Sasha’s soft tawny locks and the other rubbing her back. “Again, I’m not upset nor mad at you.” Her handmaiden was quite theatrical when she wanted to be. “Sit up.”  
  
Following her command, Sasha sat up and wiped her face of the tears, still scared she would be sent away.  
  
“Ymir was right. She does command you and her word is law.” Historia reached for a damp cloth, wiping Sasha’s face to ease away some of the red. “You did what you believed was right and that is why I trust you to advise me. Reiner, you, Marco, and Ymir. A small circle, to be sure, but to be trusted without waver.” She let her hand fall to her lap, kissing the maiden’s forehead. “I will never send you away. Regardless of if Ymir commands it. I will always override her and my brother when it comes to you. Understand?”  
  
Sasha smiled, nodding her head. Leaning forward, she hugged the Khaleesi and received one in return. “Thank you, Khaleesi.” A tighter squeeze, only for Historia to gasp and pull away, holding her chest.  
  
“Ah! Damn it…” She cursed under her breath, adjusting her top. “This has gotten so much tighter the last few days.”  
  
Historia looked up, noticing Sasha looking back at her with a raised eyebrow and a smug smile. “What are you smiling about?”  
  
Without a second thought, Sasha reached out, cupping her mistress’ breasts. “A good bit bigger… Has the khal noticed?”  
  
“Noticed what?” What was Sasha on about now?  
  
Lowering a hand, she rested it on Historia’s stomach, pushing gently. “Have you bled this month?”  
  
“… No? But I haven’t bled in six months. Not since the month after Ymir and I married–”  
  
“Not unusual for being so young but then again, I could be wrong abou–”  
  
“Khalee–”  
  
For a tense second, Marco, Sasha, and Historia all stared at one another. With Sasha’s hands cupping the Khaleesi’s breast and stomach, Marco did all he could to remain stoic. “The khal wishes to see the khaleesi.” He said, turning back, cheeks turning pink.  
  
Snapped out of the moment, Historia pressed against Sasha to get distance between her hands and her body. “Sasha, help me with my hair. I don’t want Ymir to be able to see much of the bruise.”  
  
The two rushed to let her hair down, framing her face and neck to fall in front of her.  
  
Stepping out, Historia was led by Sasha and Marco the tent before she walked in, but not before she saw Sasha pull Marco to the side to whisper in his ear. Historia did her best to put on her best happy expression to greet her wife, though there had been some chips left in the mask from the earlier attack.  
  
“ _My Khal?_ ” She smiled, approaching her wife. “ _You wished to see me?_ ”  
  
No need to ask why. “ _Before you lecture me about what happened, you have no need to be worried. Erwin was… Erwin was right. I should not have given him a command. He is to be king and I am…_ ” She glanced down, taking a deep breath, “ _only his sister. I needed to be reminded of my place in our family. Please do not harm him_.”  
  
After so many years of hiding the abuse, despite her brother doing so in broad daylight, the young girl was used to defending Erwin and his actions. It was expected of him to do so. It was common in Sina. She had angered the titan.  
  
“ _I am sorry for the trouble I have caused you._ ”  


* * *

 

Unknown to Ymir, Marco hovered by the outside of the tent, feeling as though he may be needed. While the Khaleesi had learned part of the language, there were still words and phrases she did not know. Ymir was pretty good about sticking to simple things, leaving the harder words of their language for Sinian speakers alone. Still, when the khal was upset, other words may come out. So, still close enough to eavesdrop, he hovered. As did the pesky handmaiden.  
  
At then mention of the blonde’s older brother, Ymir’s face fell as she scowled. One moment she had a fiery wife, the next cowering in fear over a spineless snake. Ymir scoffed at her apology for his actions, deciding not to hold back. Maybe if Ymir got angry, Historia would get her spark back. That seemed to be how it sort of worked, after all. If they but heads, they both became stubborn, and Historia would show the passionate side of her Ymir was coming to adore.  
  
“ _He is not king. He is no king. I am khal, these are my lands, lands of the eotena - not his kind. Your lands. You are a khaleesi. You could order him to pound sand for all I care. He has to obey it._ ” The woman gritted her teeth as she grumbled a few curses under her breath and paced off to the side, shutting her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath. “ _If it would not make you sad, I would have him killed_.”  
  
And it was true. Had she not have to worry about her khaleesi’s thoughts on the matter and feelings, she would have him killed. But they were blood. And perhaps it was ridiculous to operate on her wife’s feelings toward anything, but it affected their relationship. And bedroom life.  
  
“ _That’s not why I called you in here._ “ She continued, Marco slipping inside as he had a feeling he was going to be needed. Ymir locked eyes with him, though did nothing other than signal he could stay. No doubt Historia’s lapdog was listening in, but at this point she didn’t really care. Now she was curious if there had been enough of a struggle to leave any marks on her khaleesi.  
  
Walking over, she stopped abruptly in front of Historia, sooner than she had planned to as she took a good look at her. Gently, she reached a hand out to her neck, scowling as she observed her neck with a look of disdain. Sure enough, there were the marks only fingers would leave behind. Her fingers lightly grazed her skin, committing the damage to memory. The khal made a mental note to leave better marks later of the kind variety.  
  
It was only then Ymir realized she may have frightened the other. Ymir cupped her cheek, staring into her eyes and spoke. “The khal says that she wants you to know that she would never hurt you, Khaleesi, and to try to trust her.” She nodded her head at Marco as she stepped away once more and tried to find a way to voice her thoughts aloud.  
“ _… My people think you’re beautiful. They know you’re eager to learn. Some do, at least. But I want my warriors to obey without question when you give a command. Reiner of Braun cannot repeat such orders for you forever. Makes one look weak._ ” Her eyes glanced over as she continued to walk.  
  
“There are some customs you should learn and proper ways to talk to my khalasar,“ Marco spoke up in the common tongue, showing her she had said an unfamiliar word. Her warrior-riders. ”They are more rowdy and would not listen to you in a heartbeat like myself or Sasha.“  
  
Stopping a good fifteen feet away from the blonde, she gestured for her to walk towards her. “ _Come_ ,” She waited. Perhaps it was a little degrading, but it was to help make a point.  
  
Once she had made it to her, she turned her shoulders in the order direction and leaned more towards her ear. “You walk like a peasant.” Now she knew she had to be pissing Historia off. No, there were ways words could make her upset, but she found the right combination, she thought, to make her just passionate and fierce rather than upset.  
  
“ _Perhaps you should actually try._ ” Ymir narrowed her eyes. “ _You have power. Use it._ ”  


* * *

 

Standing still as a statue, Historia stared at Ymir blankly in order to keep her composure. She was aware of her title, but in the picture of Sina politics, the Khaleesi barely demanded any more respect from other royals than a Wardeness. The title of Khaleesi was dear to her heart because she was Ymir’s wife, but if she were to appear in court, her title would be Princess above all else.  
  
Historia ordering her brother’s exodus? That was a joke. She would join her family in the afterlife before she could take her next breath. Commanding him to stop earned her a brush too close with death.  
  
A soft sigh came from the blonde, nodding. “ _I am grateful, My Khal._ ” She said. Her brother was not the best man, very few Reiss men were, but he was the only family she had left in the world. The only thing she knew. How could she let her family be killed?  
  
Eyes trained on her wife, she fixed her posture as she neared but flinched when Ymir’s hand came up. It took a lot of self-control not to shrink back from her hand. Her mouth betrayed her stillness. She could feel Ymir examining it, and the longer she did, the more uneasy she felt.  
  
I should have had Sasha cover it with a necklace. Even then she doubted that Ymir would have let it rest.  
  
Her eyes locked with Ymir’s for a moment, but fell as Marco translated what Historia already understood. But in some situations, it was better to be underestimated. Erwin used to tell her those same things. Those promises never meant anything, as Historia had come to realize.  
  
Right now, Historia’s main focus was to get out of the tent and to her own as soon as possible. She didn’t want to be around Ymir, Marco, or anybody else.  
  
Released from her hands, Historia raised her gaze again to watch Ymir as she spoke. Pacing about the tent was making her anxious. The praise came with criticism, though that she expected.  
  
Thankful for Marco to be there to translate the word she didn’t know, Historia remained right where she was, the anxiety, fear, and pent up anger was slowly building. It was the only thing keeping her upright and stationary. She continued to bite the inside of her lip, unwilling to speak. Her words would do more harm than good in any case.  
  
She knew she didn’t ‘command’ as Ymir dictated she should. That was not her duty. Though she craved the power, it was not hers to have. It just seemed Ymir wasn’t content with such.  
  
Once Ymir stopped and gave her command, Historia raised an eyebrow, her forehead wrinkling with the expression. A glance to Marco, who gave a shrug of his shoulders. Indifferent, as he should be.  
  
Righting her shoulders, she walked toward Ymir as she had always been taught. Chin parallel to the floor, eyes ahead, slow pace because a lady never ran anywhere unless it was an emergency. A wife treating her like an animal to be trained was not an emergency.  
  
She stopped and looked up at Ymir with a passive expression. Ymir may have claimed to not be smart like men who read books, but she surely had to be smart enough not to push too much farther. Historia had a lot of control, but as of late, there had been more instances building up with very little time to release them properly.  
  
And yet, there was no pause in her barrage of words. Walk like a peasant? Who was she to tell Historia how she moved was less than what was expected of her?! Her chest ached with the inability to scream and degrade Ymir like she had been doing to the blonde. Only self-control and years of conditioning herself to be the perfect Sinian royal was holding her back.  
  
Finally, what was left of Historia’s self control snapped. Her pleasantly passive expression turned into a somewhat amused quirk to her lip and her head tilted. “ _Marco, your khal said in front of you that she wants me to trust her. Am I wrong?_ ”  
  
Marco looked up, unsure of what to say in response, “ _Yes, Khaleesi. She wishes for you to put as much trust in her as you put in your brother and Sasha_.”  
  
Her dark blue eyes unwavering from Ymir’s, Historia continued. “ _Tell me, without consulting the khal, if someone were to treat you like an animal, would you gift them with your trust?_ ”  
  
“ _… No, Khaleesi. They would not have a tongue to continue treating me as such._ ” Marco replied, “ _But Khal Ymir is doing–_ ”  
  
“ _No._ ” She said simply but powerfully, stopping Marco's explaination. “ _I do not care what the Khal is doing. She is treating me like an animal, so therefore, she will get the response and actions of an animal._ ” Historia turned her head, away from Marco and Ymir and spit on the ground, showing her displeasure with her wife’s actions. “ _If you want me to trust you, treat me like a human and not a possession you keep in your tent. Treat me like I am worthy of your trust in the first place and not like your fucking horse!_ ”  
  
Historia turned on her heel, using every last bit of anger and frustration to keep her steps steady and posture straight. First her brother, then her handmaiden betraying her trust, then her wife treating her like a dog? As much as she loved Ymir, she wondered what had possessed her to treat her like such! Did she honestly expect her to contain herself?  
  
Her trek to her tent had been so hazy, fueled by her emotions, she didn’t noticed people moving out of their way, or bowing in respect to the Khaleesi for the first time.  


* * *

 

Ymir waited, listening to the exchange between Marco and her Khaleesi, knowing her expression was sickly sweet for a reason. She had really pissed off Historia. Ymir had never seen the blonde that angry. It was terrifying and arousing all at the same time.  
  
Though, she wasn’t exactly a fan of the spitting. Such an act was more disrespectful than how Ymir had been speaking to Historia and trying to provoke her. Still, she held an arm up, signaling it was fine to Marco. He already knew that, though, but it was a habit. Historia could be pardoned as it was Ymir’s fault and she had sort of deserved it.  
  
Her face remained passive until Historia had turned her back and a grin took place. The way her khaleesi stomped off in anger was refreshing for her. If she could keep that up, she’d be more respected, a bit feared even. Not only that, she had gotten the form Ymir was looking for almost to a ‘T’ in record time. If she didn’t forget it, if she could keep it up, Historia would be getting the respect and amount of power she deserved.  
  
The two freckled kin stood in silence for a moment before Ymir gave a whistle. Marco blinked.  
  
“ _Blood of my blood…?_ ”  
  
“ _Damn, she learns quickly, no?_ ” Ymir laughed. ” _I’m impressed. It took me longer to get that down… Let’s see if she remembers to stay like that. I can practically hear the people cowering outside the tent._ ”  
  
With that, she gave a slight shout, alerting two members of her khalasar to come into the tent. “ _Khal Ymir._ ”  
  
“ _Has there been a group out to hunt yet?_ ” No. Good. Ymir felt going out to hunt with the others for once was enough of a celebration. She smiled at the thought. “ _Marco, I want you to get the nicest furs Khaleesi. A foreign pelt. Let her know I’m pleased._ “  
  
One man stared ahead for a moment, not sure exactly how to take Ymir’s latest comment. ”… _What?_ ”  
  
Oh. Wait. That sounded sort of like Ymir had been pleasured in the tent previously. Oh well. The khal simply snorted and waited for the horses to be grabbed for them. Seeing Marco still hesitate, Ymir repeated her command, reminding him that it was an order, and watch him run off.  
  
“ _A quick learner indeed._ ” Ymir mused to herself. She hung around in impatience for her horse, the red, to be brought to her and reflected on her actions.  
  
Had she taken a step back in her relationship with Historia? Perhaps. It was all good intentions, though. Her khaleesi was smart enough to recognize that, wasn’t she? Still, it didn’t make her much better than her brother, now did it? The thought alone made her clench her teeth and mentally whack herself upside the head. No, she had not fully thought that one through.  
  
Historia would calm down and get over herself. Hopefully. Or Marco could help dig Ymir out of trouble.  


* * *

 

Back in her tent, she continued to simmer in her rage. Not even Sasha dared to follow her into the Khaleesi’s designated home.  
  
Had she really not been enough for Ymir to respect? She felt the need to degrade her in front of a person of their council? If she wanted an Eotena woman to rule, then she should have married a warrior and not her! “Walk like a peasant, my left foot…” Historia said, digging her nails into her palm to try and distract herself from the extreme burn in her chest left behind by the interaction with her wife.  
  
She walked like a princess. Like a queen. It wasn’t up to Ymir’s standards though, apparently. Historia felt hurt that she couldn’t have asked her to do so in the privacy of her tent. No. She had to behave like her brother would.  
  
It could have been worse, Historia tried to reason with herself. She could have done it in front of the Khalasar, for everyone to view and laugh at her.  
  
The Khaleesi’s vision started to get blurry, forcing her to take a seat. Holding back so much then releasing it all in one short burst had taken a lot out of the petite ruler.  
  
Head in her hands, she shut her eyes and started to take deep breaths in hopes to calm her head and her racing heart. She couldn’t continue to react to situations the way she had with Ymir. The Khal had probably only put up with her doing so because they were married. The Eotena men spoke about Ymir taking on another wife if they didn’t produce an heir soon, and if that heir wasn’t male... She could be replaced and placed on the council of crones.  
  
Someone stronger. Someone fit to rule the Eotena with their morals and core of their culture.  
  
Why did that thought hurt more than the actions her wife and shown her earlier?  
  
“ _She doesn’t wish to see anyon–_ ”  
  
“I have something for her from the Khal.” Marco said, plain for Historia to hear from outside the tent flaps before coming in.  
  
“Sasha told you the only thing I wish to say to you or the Khal.” Historia kept her head down, unwilling to look up. She couldn’t face the shame of being humiliated in front of her friend.  
  
“Ymir is proud of you, Khaleesi.” Marco said, leaving the small pile of furs on a chair before going over to stand in front of the blonde.  
  
“She can shove the pride–”  
  
“ _Khaleesi,_ ” Marco emphasized, kneeling down to get her to look at him. “I wish for you to stop interrupting me and let me explain her actions.”  
  
Historia locked on the amber eyes so much like Ymir’s, scowling still. “If it weren’t for the fact I care for you, neither you nor her would get the rite to do so.”  
  
Sitting back, he sighed, crossing his legs. “Why can’t you show that same fight for when someone isn’t angering you?” He opened his hands. It wasn’t meant to be answered, and they both knew that. “She wants you to have that attitude for everything. Our cultures approach things different, and while Sinian teachings may have a place here, it is not when dealing with the Khalasar. Passive politics will get you nowhere in this tribe.”  
  
“Passive politics is all I’ve been trained to do, Marco.” Historia said, sitting up and wincing at the soreness in her mid-back. “A lady isn’t meant to command an army unless her king or sons are unable.”  
  
“But you are not a lady. You are a Khaleesi of the Eotena, and you command an army with every order you give.” Reaching for his blade in his riding boot, he held it between his fingers. “Every man and woman in this tribe knows how to use at least one weapon in order to defend themselves. To defend you. They crave a Khaleesi who commands as fierce and as loyal as the Khal.”  
  
“Then she should have married Mikasa.” Historia spat out, not buying it for a moment. Marco was using flowery words to get Ymir out of trouble because she couldn’t do it herself.  
  
Marco laughed at the idea, putting the blade back. “Mikasa only takes control when she absolutely has to.” He said, tilting her head up to look at him straight on again. “Ymir gave you the opportunity to show your fire, and you did so when you could have remained meek. You want this, Khaleesi. That is why Ymir married you. She sees you’re as ready to rule as she is. Say the word with the right emphasis and you will have it, be it by Ymir or by your Khalasar.”  
  
Historia’s scowl softened a little. Ymir was manipulating her in order to force her to show that she could fight back; That she could take control? Did she not know that from the time they spent in bed?  
  
The freckled blood of her wife smiled broadly at the blonde, aware that Historia was now on the same level as himself and Ymir. “The Khal did instruct me to bring you a gift.” Marco reached over to the furs, handing her a pile of chinchilla pelts, to her surprise.  
  
“… Furs?” She asked, inspecting them. They were soft, and the leather inside was clean. “Local?”  
  
“Sinian. Kept as pets and well fed and loved until the day they died.” He stood up, dusting himself off so he could leave.  
  
Historia looked over the different colors, tilting her head. “Marco?”  
  
“Ai, Khaleesi?”  
  
"When you see the Khal, tell her to return to her tent. She’s not out of the tall grass yet. Do so without embarrassing her, if you would.” Historia got up, picking a black pelt and calling in Sasha.  


* * *

 

It was uncommon for the khal to join in on the hunting that went on. A khal had more important things to do, and while hunting was important was seen as some sort of pleasure to the freckled woman. Sort of like how focusing on sharpening her blade put her to ease. That and it was a nostalgic thing, to be gathering food for the tribe as she once used to do many, many moons ago. Today simply reminded her of what she had been missing.  
  
The horses rode into camp, slowing down as Ymir stayed mounted and kept her head up high and shoulders square with a leering look bordering on downright cocky. Always playing the part of the khal, of course.  
  
Once near where the horses had to be tied up, she gave the reins to a slave and ordered her horse be tied up. Another was to remove the catches Ymir had made: a hare. They weren’t the most common, and it was sheer lucky she was able to kill the bugger and ring its neck. Other than that, they hadn’t caught much, other than two snakes for some women to work with and a wild dog. On the bright side, they had plenty of meat salted and ready to eat now, and they could save what they had caught today for a bit later. Ymir was kind of in the mood for some preserved horse meat anyway with some cheese and fruits.  
  
The plan now had been to meet with Levi and Gunther, two important men on her strategic team. Well, her khalasar was a team, those two just happened to be great with strategies and thus when talking of lands, she went to them. Supposedly another tribe was not that far from them, though Ymir had no idea whether they were an ally or another new scar for her collection. But before she could head to her tent, she was intercepted by Marco.  
  
“ _Khal Ymir,_ ” He began, furrowing his brows. “ _The Khaleesi wants to see you._ ”  
  
Ymir raised an eyebrow, a bit amused. This was either good or bad. “ _Tell her to wait. First I will talk with Levi and Gunther._ ”  
  
“ _Immediately._ “  
  
Oh. Ymir was in trouble. While she could tell Marco to fuck off and reiterate her place as higher command, she knew she couldn’t. Earlier she had went about a rather stupid way to toughen her wife up. Now she was going to get it in some way. Verbally, most likely, though she wouldn’t put it past the blonde to slap her or headbutt her chin.  
  
So she would have to rearrange her meeting with the others. Ymir exhaled loudly through her nose and rubbed her neck. “ _Then tell them they are dismissed. We will talk tomorrow, no exceptions, before the sun reaches its highest point._ ” Her freckled kin nodded his head and rushed off as the leader headed towards her own tent.  
  
Pulling back the flap, she peeked her head in, not sure if it was wise to blindly walk in without making sure things were somewhat okay. Then she was spotted, and Ymir knew there was no way she could turn around and pretend not to be back yet.  
  
“ _You requested my presence?_ “ It came out more of a comment than a question.  


* * *

 

Over the next few hours, Historia practiced with Sasha the proper way to walk and command, taking breaks throughout to cut and sew together a piece for Ymir. There was enough fabric for something for Ymir, and maybe her brother? If she had enough left, she would make one for herself. But a simple arm band wasn’t enough. For Ymir’s, Historia took out her wedding dress and ripped out dark red threads and some of the bead work, putting in an intricate design to match Ymir’s scarring that she had committed to memory.  
  
As night drew near, Historia walked from her tent to Ymir’s, beyond comfortable with how it was set up. She sat on a few of the pelts around the fire, warming her body as she examined the piece she had made until the Khal appeared.  
  
“ _I understand why you did what you did._ ” Historia said, not looking up from her focus. “ _While no better than how my brother would have treated me, you did it out of a good place in your heart, did you not?_ ” She knew the answer already. There was no need to wait for one. “ _You could have asked me like this rather than what you did, but I am not upset with you_.”  
  
The blonde tilted her head up to see Ymir. “ _You want a Khaleesi strong enough to lead. I want to be such, but I cannot do it if I fear my wife is going to humiliate me in front of our peers. I will not stand for it._ ” The strength in her voice, though nonchalant, amazed even the Khaleesi. “ _If you promise that you will not do it again, I will promise I will not tie your hands together and sit you outside your tent while I sleep in your bed._ ” A playful little quirk settled on her lips, pulling her hair to the side.  
  
It took her a moment due to the pain her back, but she stood up, approaching Ymir. “ _I have a gift for you, My Khal_.” She said softly, revealing the armband she had created for her wife.  
  
“ _It would please me to see you wear it._ ” Pale hands took Ymir’s left arm, slipping the cuff around her hand to slide it up her arm and line up perfectly with Ymir’s scarring. “ _Part of your gift. Part of my wedding dress to remind you I am going to be the Khaleesi you always imagined._ ”  


* * *

 

Her posture relaxed slightly, as it was just the two of them, though she was tense in regards to the slight fight they had gotten into earlier. And yet, per custom, she did not take a seat like she so wanted to. No, in Eotena culture, for both parties to sit represented that both thought they were in the right for whatever happened. By standing she was admitting her actions were foolish and that she was in the wrong. It also was a slight thing of respect, should anyone analyze that it was the khal standing and not sitting like one normally should.  
  
Ymir’s expression turned to one of slight amusement at Historia’s threat. She believed her, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t slightly entertaining to hear and knowing her size and general appearance.  
  
“ _Gift?_ ” Just like that, a fur armband of sorts was held before her. The craftsmanship was beautiful, and while still tribal and Eotena there was another element to it, a hint of Sinian. Part of her wedding dress? “ _You kept that?_ ” If she was correct, this matched her scar pattern, as well…  
  
It was in that moment Ymir realized that Historia had memorized the marks on her skin, the ceremonial designs signifying her wins in battle. She had taken the gift Ymir gave as a sort of apology and commending her attitude into something to give back to the khal. Even pissed off, Historia had still done this much for her, getting it to fit snugly but not too tight on top of all of that. The sentiment of serving a reminder for whom she was married to and what not.  
  
The entire gesture had taken Ymir back as her status of khal fell away and all that was there was a woman, whom felt nothing but gratitude and a warmth in her chest. Was this what love was? Beyond that of blood of blood, of kinsmanship, there was a type of romantic love she had never truly thought about or fully realized was there until this moment. Even now, her fingers ran lightly over the fur, as if the fabric itself were suddenly so delicate that the slightest pressure would cause it to break.  
  
She waited a second, not sure what to do or say. The eotena warlord was completely thrown for a loop like a child first falling from their horse.  
  
“ _You… are more than the khaleesi I could imagine._ ” Ymir admitted slowly, knitting her brows together. “ _You make the moon hang low in jealousy… No, you are more than that._ “ She decided to announce her revelation without quite saying the three words on her mind. “ _You are the moon of my life_.”  


* * *

 

Historia was quite proud of herself. For Ymir to be left without words now they shared a language was an accomplishment. Adjusting the arm band a tad to the left, she tilted her head to admire the work of both her own and the scarring on Ymir’s arm. Many hours spent tracing them with both her fingertips and eyes as candles burned low and the Khal slept soundlessly.  
  
Attention turned back to Ymir’s features, she noted the slackness of her expression. She had seen Ymir awestruck and shocked before, but this wasn’t the same expression. This was softened, much like how Historia looked at Ymir during the night when she was kept awake by her thoughts.  
  
The compliment to her title colored her cheeks, her smile widening. It was such an odd compliment. To be better than someone’s imagination or to make the moon hang low. The next few words caught her off guard, her hand coming down Ymir’s arm to rest on her hand.  
  
It was only one time, but Sasha had told her the story of the Sun and Moon in Eotena culture. One day, many years before Kyojin, Shifters, and humans learned to count, the bright, warm Sun fell in love with the cool, pale Moon. Their love was vast and unwavering, strong as Sinian steel. But like when fire met ice, the Sun damaged the Moon when they became close. To ensure the Moon would live, the Sun would die every day for the Moon to rise. Only their hands and feet could touch, making the dawn and dusk. Their balance made the world and the stars.  
  
Ymir loved her like the Sun loved the Moon. Ymir loved her, but to say so was looked down upon. The idea shouldn’t have brought fear forefront in Historia’s mind, but in her past dictated that ‘love’ was akin to being treated badly. But Ymir had asked her to trust her, and Historia cared so fiercely for Ymir that not even what she felt for her brother could compare.  
  
She truly did love Ymir with her whole being.  
  
Leaning forward, Historia lightly headbutted Ymir’s chest, grinning like a silly child. “ _And you are my Sun and Stars._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I post this and work on the next 2 chapter postings (one including public sex), I have a group of senior Christians singing Christmas carols in the other room. Yesterday it was someone's phone going off repeatedly with 'JESUS LOVES ME THIS I KNOW' while I read Korrasami ABO smut.
> 
> God, I get it, I'm going to hell, thank you.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I've worked nothing but 12-16 hour days at work and my car decided that being on the road for 22 years was too long and decided to nope the fuck out.

The blonde rested against her wife for a moment, reveling in the warmth she felt both internally and from Ymir. She would be content staying like she was, but knew it wouldn’t last. The days had been calm since their scuffle, but the consistent schedule of their meals would interrupt before too long.  
  
As if she knew the interruption was expected, Sasha came in, holding a small bowl of rabbit stew for the Khaleesi’s sour stomach and milk of the poppy to ease her back pains. “I’ve got something for your condition.” She stopped, staring at Ymir. Now wasn’t the time to bring up what she assumed to be true. “ _My Khal, my apologies. I had told the Khaleesi I would bring her something for her stomach._ ”  
  
Historia leaned around Ymir, not having caught the Sinian but only the scent of the stew. The first sniff smelled utterly delicious. Of course, after not eating for the majority of the day due to her throat hurting in the aftermath of her brother's senseless actions, everything smelled good. It was only on the second whiff of the stew that her stomach overturned and lurched up her throat.  
  
She stepped back, covering her mouth and swallowing hard. That was not going to happen! Not in front of Ymir!  
  
“ _Khaleesi?_ ” Sasha asked, eyebrows furrowed together in concern.  
  
“I’m fin–” Another lurch up her throat, almost making it to her mouth before she shut it and ran out of the tent.  
  
Panicked, Sasha watched Historia run off, then looked to the Khal. “ _I am sorry, Khal Ymir, I must tend to the Khaleesi– I will have Hannah come and serve your dinner!_ ” She said, running out after the blonde after she put the food down, taking the milk of the poppy with her.  
  
Locating Historia by the sound of her getting sick, Sasha found her outside of the camp premises, emptying the contents of her stomach on the dry sands. Sasha rubbed her back gently, keeping her hair out of the way. “There, there, Khaleesi… This will only last a few months.”  
  
“A few mon–” Unable to continue speaking, she whimpered as she got sick again. It took a minute or two, but Historia eventually stood back up, reaching for the skein of liquid offered by the handmaiden. Anything was better than the taste of vomit. “What did you mean 'a few months?’”  
  
Sasha looked at her with a sigh. “Can we stop pretending like we don’t know? You’re expecting, Khaleesi…” She said, putting a hand to her lower stomach. “The Khal’s visit of her ancestors was to alert you.”  
  
Eyes wide, Historia dropped the skein. Pregnant? That couldn’t have been right - they had been trying but there would have been more signs! Her mind raced, going over her conversations and woes of the last few weeks. Tender stomach and breasts, sick in the mornings (and at all times if she were to be honest), lack of interest in eating, a sudden increase in her moods... The world was spinning much faster suddenly.  
  
“Take it easy,” Sasha reached out to grab the swaying Khaleesi. “This isn't the time or the place for you to be fainting.” She chuckled a little, supporting the blonde.  
  
“I can’t tell Ymir yet.” Historia blinked a few times, an undeniable smile on her face. “It’s not the right time– I have to wait for the lightning to strike, correct? So I can be sure?”  
  
“Ai, Khaleesi.” Sasha said, leading her through the camp, laughing softly. “But you may not leave your tent without someone watching you. Reiner and I will be at your side every minute if you wish for us to be.”  
  
“No, no. Just when I travel from place to place. Can you teach me to defend myself?” That was something she really wanted, since Marco had brought up her lack of knowledge. “I cannot be pregnant and rely on you and the others at all times.”  
  
Sasha inhaled through her teeth. “Ask the Khal first. I can’t teach you unless she gives me permission.” Stopping at the front of the tent, she rubbed Historia’s arm. “Do you need me to go in and prepare something else for your stomach? I can make you broth?”  
  
Raising her hand, she shook her head. She could find something for herself. A cheese bun sounded like the best option and agreeable with her stomach. “Sleep well.” She dismissed, ducking back into the tent. Grabbing a cloth from a pile and returning to where she had been resting earlier, Historia dipped it into the rabbit stew she had been brought in order to nurse her stomach without putting much into it.  
  
“ _I’m sorry. My stomach has been a mess the last few evenings._ ” She said, sitting down to lean on Ymir again as she held the cloth to her mouth. “ _Is it good?_ ”  
  


* * *

 

Their moment was short-lived as Sasha announced her arrival and received a glare sharper than the woman’s arakh. She had come much earlier than she expected with supper and while they were both clothed it was still a rather private moment. To be caught with Historia and herself with their guard down and painfully affectionate could do more harm than good with the wrong person.  
  
“ _You dare interrupt a khal while she is with her khaleesi…_ ” Ymir’s eyebrow twitched.  
  
She also needed to eventually bring up that while ‘my khal’ was a fine title and all, but that it was starting to sound like something one said when sucking up to her. She didn’t mind suck ups, but she felt her seriousness was taken more so with a grain of salt. People need to go back to addressing her properly, as Khal Ymir. That conversation could wait for another day though. Right now Ymir just wanted to relax and eat and have sex.  
  
Her grip loosened as Historia turned, only for the freckled leader to take a step back just as Historia did the same. She looked awfully green… Like the grasslands. Had she gotten ill? Why was Ymir not ill if Historia was? They were always together at night… unless there had been some bad meat or something that had been fed to the khaleesi. If so, Ymir had someone’s head to chop off. Still, she needed to confirm that it was what she was being fed making the blonde sick.  
  
Before Ymir could say anything, Historia was out of the tent. Better to expel anything outside than in her living space for the night. Shortly after Sasha would follow, and Ymir was left alone. The khal sat stood quietly, remembering that not long ago it had been her alone under this tent. Once upon a time, she had this solitude and greatly enjoyed it. And while she did like being alone… Ymir had no idea how empty she felt before Historia spent every evening with her. It was funny in one way, and also terribly depressing in another. On the bright side, it didn’t seem like they would be gone too long, Sasha and Historia.  
  
Part of her had debated following. Another argued it was best to stay where she was. She was khal, she did not need to follow her wife everywhere, nor watch her get sick. Besides, her own food was being delivered by way of Hannah. Sure enough, after two minutes, the ginger girl, the slave, walked in with Ymir’s own meal. Stew of the same variety with a bigger portion size, and dried horse meat. Fine by her.  
  
Ymir was impatient and had already ate a few bites of her own meal before Historia returned. The brunette looked up, mouthful as she raised an eyebrow in silent question whether she needed to get up. Apparently not. She swallowed a bit too soon, the half-chewed glob scraping roughly down her throat.  
  
“ _You okay?_ ” A pause. “ _Yeah, good… mine is good._ ” She waited another moment, before placing her meal aside to take Historia’s bowl. From there, she doled out a couple of chunks of food into her own serving, inspecting the stew carefully.  
  
A sniff of the stew deemed it wasn’t altered or any different from her own. “ _No poison. I think._ ” She handed it to her wife. “ _I will kill whomever made you sick if you think it is the food. Just drink broth for now._ ”  
  
Well, she was trying to help. Immediately, Ymir’s mind went back to the food waiting for her that she dug back into, transfixed by the fire and lost in a place between her thoughts and where they sat. Only after she had inhaled the rest of her meal did she wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and put an arm around Historia.  
  
Perhaps now was a bad time to ask if she was getting laid that night or not. No matter, for now she was content to simply sit there with her wife for a while. By twenty minutes she had made her mind up that she either needed to get laid or sharpen her arakh - so she mumbled a quiet excuse and got up to sharpen her blade.  
  
Never would Ymir understand why Historia seemed jumpy by her tending to her weaponry. Feeling she was being watched, Ymir spoke up.  
  
“ _Keeps my hands busy. Calms the mind. I don’t trust a slave or any of my men to sharpen my arakh any better._ ” Grabbing a cloth she used just for cleaning, she wrinkled her nose. “ _Shit, it’s been a while. I guess that’s what happens when your wife wants you every night._ ” Ymir snickered and said nothing else as she focused on the task at hand.  
  


* * *

 

Assured by her wife it wasn’t poisoned, and knowing it had nothing to do with the food, she took the bowl and dipped the rag into the liquid to control how much she took in at a time. It was such an old practice to the Khaleesi, something her brother used to give her when she got sick as a child, before he changed.  
  
As they sat in silence, it gave Historia time to think. The two of them had come distances from where they had begun. Stone by stone they built up their marriage from nothing. Had you asked her a year before, she would have nearly imagined this scene before her. A spouse she loved, sitting together and enjoying one another’s company, and a baby on the way…  
  
Not that she would have ever thought she would be in the middle of the Bad Lands, married to an Eotena Khal and a woman, pregnant with the Khal of Khals.  
  
The Khal of Khals... It would happen for them, but what if she birthed a girl? Surely their daughter could do as Ymir did and redefine the role of ‘Khal.’ It was a hefty title to live up to for an unborn child.  
  
Having had her fill of broth, Historia placed her bowl on the table and grabbed a folded up fur pelt to hold to her stomach to ease the pains while she laid on the seat Ymir had left. Much better for both her back and stomach.  
  
A lingering uneasiness still settled into the bones of Historia seeing the blade. It brought back memories of the first weeks of their marriage, when Historia was always on edge and worried about not being what the Khal wanted. Fearing being left to the vultures to eat. How far they had come, indeed.  
  
Historia chuckled at Ymir’s reason for not sharpening her blade. “ _Woe to the wife who has a wife that wants her and a Khalasar that wants their heir._ ” She said, giggling at her hint that would go over the Khal’s head. “ _Many a woman and man have not had the same problem you face._ ”  
  
She knew Ymir had a point. What more pride in battle than to know that your blade is the sharpest? “ _I suppose it’s better to clean your own blade and sharpen it. Then no one else shoulders the blame should it not be enough in battle._ ”  
  
Going quiet, she debated asking Ymir about having Sasha train her to protect herself. What better time than while Ymir had a full stomach, doing something calming, and with the promise of sex more than likely? Maybe something easy on the Khaleesi.  
  
Sitting back up, Historia left the pelt behind as she came up behind the freckled brunette, moving her dark hair out of the way of her shoulder so the small Khaleesi could love on her in the privacy of their own tent. “ _Ymir?_ ” She asked softly, using her name rather than her title. “ _Sasha worries about my ability to protect myself when I am alone, and Marco has told me that everyone in the camp has been trained with a weapon._ ” She said, laying a slow trail of kisses down her neck and over a few of the scars.  
  
“ _May I have Sasha teach me to protect myself, if I need to do so?_ ” Her warm hands came up to rest on Ymir’s arms, stilling her movements for the moment. “ _I may not be a born Eotena, but I do not wish to be complacent like a Sina high born during battle; Left with poison to take my life. It’s a cowardly way. For men with skinny arms, as you say. I want to learn to fight too._ ”  
  
It wasn’t just about protecting herself anymore though. A child, a family. If Ymir couldn’t, and everyone was in battle, who would stop someone from attacking her or their child?  
  
“ _A small blade. That is all I ask._ ” She nuzzled against her gently, murmuring quietly. Sasha had taught Historia what she thought she needed in order to win over the Khal, but the poor handmaiden had been the creator of a monster now.  
  


* * *

 

She really shouldn’t complain, even if she was joking. There was nothing wrong with getting to engage in the act of heir-making every night, sometimes twice or even three times. Well, it sounded better in theory. While her sexual appetite was greedily fulfilled, she was always a bit sore after a rather eventful day. Sometimes they took a night or two to recuperate but not usually much longer than that. And to think Historia wasn’t expecting yet… it was a wonder.  
  
Then again, Ymir was an oddity. Perhaps she’d never actually produce an heir. The thought caused a pain in her chest, especially at the idea they would soon be dealing with a khal of khals, supposedly. That was based on Marco’s speculation, and an ideology that separated their tribe from another. Ymir’s tribe was not one focused much on tales of old, but it was a rather progressive one with a respect toward tradition. Well, mostly - Ymir had sort of broken tradition by being the odd sex she sort of was, and refusing to go back to male pronouns and be graced after raised with female pronouns in an attempt to belittle her.  
  
Ymir decided not to think much about it. Maybe there was something wrong with Historia. Unlikely, though. Very unlikely. Maybe it had to do with the both of them? Possibly. Ymir was convinced it was her, though she’d keep trying. It was an excuse to continue having sex. Should anything fail to happen within a year or two…  
  
It was something she didn’t want to think about. The Council of Crones would advise and practically demand she marry someone else, either making a harem of sorts or completely dropping Historia to join the old hags themselves. That wasn’t something Ymir wanted. Especially after her recent discovery that she was in love with her khaleesi.  
  
Unaware Historia had even moved and so lost in her thoughts and cleaning off her blade, the khal stiffened at the sudden appearance of her wife by her ear. A weak spot she would never admit, Ymir felt her eye twitch slightly, hand grip tightening on the hilt of the curved blade as her movements of polishing slowed. She almost bit her lip but held back, scrunching her face up in thought instead as she tried to focus on Historia’s words and her current work.  
  
Funny how Historia had dropped her title. Hadn’t she thought about something similar earlier, about her title being used appropriately and a certain way? She forgot now with the kisses against her neck. But she didn’t mind, no, if it was Historia. It felt good to hear her name on her lips, without being preceded by anything.  
  
“ _Everyone learns to hold a blade by the age of five._ ” Ymir stated simply, going to turn her head more towards the blonde but instead finding her head tilted upward more. A little more room, slightly easier access, and downright embarrassing for Ymir. “ _What concern is it to a handmaiden you cannot wield a blade?_ ”  
  
Historia had a point. Or Ymir was being swayed by her attempts to turn Ymir on and make her lose focus. Unfortunately for Ymir, it was working. She hadn’t noticed, but her movements with the cloth on her blade had quickened. She cleared her throat.  
“ _You have skinny arms._ ” It was a bit teasing, but came out a bit more deadpan than Ymir intended as she glanced at her from the corner of her eye. “ _A small blade? And Sasha to teach you? Sasha is an archer. If you want small blade work, quick, you want  Bertholdt._ ”  
  
Yes, the tallest member of her khalasar, the sweaty giant, was best with a small blade. Ironic but true.  
  
At the nuzzling against her neck, Ymir’s motions quickly halted as she shut her eyes and bit her lip. Somehow, though nothing had really happened, she had managed to get an erection during this conversation. There was no way she was going to continue polishing her arakh.  
  
Lifting a hand up slowly to caress her khaleesi’s cheek, Ymir sighed. “ _I do not feel comfortable with learning such things. Not right now. Perhaps when the time is right. Now you have Reiner of Braun to protect you and thousands of eotena warriors that will defend you._ ” And yet… “ _I suppose I can have Bertholdt teach you something. A little. Not like you are training to become an eotena warrior, or vying for a position of my bloodriders._ ”  
  
She had done more than enough talking for her liking. Ymir decided to turn her head and kiss her. Her hands roamed her curves, squeezing her hips as she bit her lip and pulled away.  
  
“ _You seem to be feeling better._ ” The khal slowly rose up from her spot and turned more directly to face Historia. “ _Unless this was your own way aside from the men with skinny arms to give you what you want._ ”  
  


* * *

 

The little Khaleesi smiled into the kiss they shared once Ymir bent to her request. Did she like manipulating? Not in the slightest. Especially not her wife, but she needed to have some form of self protection that was not her relying on someone else being behind her at all times.  
  
Breaking the kiss, she bit back a moan at the squeeze of her hips, chuckling lowly. “ _I plead no innocence or admit to any guilt._ ” She said, initiating another kiss only to pull the Khal toward the bed.  
  
***

Taking the pot off the fire, Historia stood back and wiped her brow, proud of the work she had done. Any other time, she would have gladly let Sasha help her with making meals since the handmaiden was as good as any chef, but Historia wanted to do this herself. Test out some Eotena dishes, and try her hand at making some Sinain fair. With any luck, this meal would go as well as she planned.  
  
Since finding out about the pregnancy, she had only told those who absolutely needed to know: Sasha and Reiner. They were her protection and companions. Their loyalty was to Historia, and no one else. She didn’t want to hide it from Ymir, but the time wasn’t right.  
  
There was one last person she needed to tell before anyone else: Erwin. A few of his favorite dishes laid on a decorated table, along with an armband created for him and Eotena metal work for his war armor. If that was what he wanted to call it. His armor had never seen a single moment of battle.  
  
The familiar screams of Sasha from outside the tent put her nerves on high alert. Why was she screaming? Had another Khalasar attacked?  
  
Moving to go out of the tent opening, she nearly collided with the brunette, having been thrown in with great force.  
  
The blonde caught her handmaiden, looking up from the ground to find her brother towering over her with a menacing scowl. “You send a horselord’s whore to bring me to you? I thought I had gotten it through your thick skull that giving the Titan a command–”  
  
Not bothering to pay attention to Erwin, Historia knelt down to help Sasha up, checking to make sure she was unhurt by her brother. No real injuries, but she would have a few bruises to mar her skin. “I wasn’t commanding you! I was inviting you to supper.” She explained, channeling the conviction Ymir had taught her to use.  
  
As he went to challenge his sister and her tone, the decoration on the table caught his attention and he picked it up. “What’s this?” He asked, obviously not looking for an answer but a reason to continue his rampage. “Eotena metal work? Are you trying to convert me into one of these savages?!”  
  
Savages? How dare he! “They are my people, Erwin! They are not savages!” Historia shouted back, distracting Erwin enough for Sasha to slip out to get Marco or Reiner. The khaleesi was playing with fire, and both women knew it.  
  
The smile that overtook his features was one of calm, but she could see the rage in his murky eyes. “You’re wrong, Historia… My sweet, **_stupid_** sister… These are my people!” He said, stepping forward to capture her between the tent wall and himself. “I bet you would also like for me to line up and get mutilated by their fucking ritual too, wouldn’t you?” Erwin raised his hand, bringing it down just enough to make Historia flinch. "Mark myself like a savage–”  
  
“Why would you get a scar? You’ve earned no right to one nor do you have any right to these people!” She stood taller, stepping from the cloth wall, “You have no claim to these people seeing as you have not won a battle with them nor do you interact with them beyond pestering my wife for your army! We are days away from Vaas Eotena and you have no plan to do anythin–”  
  
Sick of being talked back to, Erwin’s hand came down hard against Historia’s cheek, almost knocking her to the ground.  
  
Stumbling back only a step, her eyes remained down, her breathing slowing down. In a moment of uncontrollable rage, bottled up for years at being treated like a child and beat like a rug, her hand shot out for the heavy gold belt and in one strong swing, the metal connected with the older man’s forehead and her own body shot up to headbutt him in the chin, knocking him to the ground and his head against the heavy wood table.  
  
Oh, Bertholdt would be gifted with the best horse the tribe could find for his teachings…  
  
For once able to stare down her brother, the heel of her riding boot dug into his hand, pinning him to the ground. One hand unable to move, the older man’s other hand came up to touch at the source of pain on his forehead, pulling it back to see blood on his fingertips.  
  
Her expression hardened, her own version of his twisted smirk lingering on her lips. The power felt amazing, like her spirit was being lifted from the ground. Her brother was pitiful. A spineless snake like Ymir had called him time and time again…  
  
“I am the Khaleesi of the Eotena, wife of the Great Khal Ymir and I carry her child inside me!” She stood over Erwin, the heel of her foot digging into his hand to keep him pinned there. “The next time you raise a hand to me will be the last time you have use of that arm.” Her eyes blazed with anger and defense. She wasn’t just defending herself any longer, but also the child inside of her.  
  
“ _Khaleesi?!_ ” Marco came in, holding his arakh, ready to behead Erwin at a moments notice.  
  
Lifting her foot, she watched him scramble to get up, “Historia! You are making a stupid decision! These savages are turning you into one of them! I will find no mercy for you when we arrive to Sina–”  
  
“Keep speaking like that and you won’t live to see Sina.” She said, throwing the gold belt at his feet to turn to Marco. “ _Take his tent down and house him near the horses. When we arrive to Vaas Eotena, he is to live in the horses’ shit. Understood?_ ”  
  
Storming past Marco, she held back her anger, putting it into every step, straight into the Khal’s tent. “ _Out. NOW._ ” Historia commanded with all the strength she had left in her person, staring Gunter and Levi down until they left the tent.  
  
Historia panted, feeling a wave of exhaustion overtake her frame, the adrenaline leaving her body as quickly as it came. “… _If my brother puts one toe out of line, I want his head on a spike._ ” She said, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had came. The dawning horror of her actions settling in, her eyes widening as she took a seat.  
  
“… I threatened my brother’s life… _I struck the Titan_ … Oh no… _He’s going to kill me– H-He’s going to kill me_ …”  
  


* * *

 

“ _These tribes have not met our Khaleesi and assume you have gone soft. A foreign queen? Words travel and there is much doubt going on about your abilities. Yet again, we face the threat of another attack._ “ Levi spoke, his voice rather matter-of-fact as he kept his own views out of the equation. Ymir’s fingers trailed along a map Gunter had brought out and currently kept open upon the small table they stood at.  
  
The khal scowled at the commentary but realized Levi had a point. It was true. Since her marriage, more people seemed to be getting ballsy, claiming her khalship was not as great as it seemed. An attack was launched shortly after her marriage and one a month and a half ago.  
  
“ _Has news of our latest battle not reached their ears? They are fools._ ” The Khal stroked her chin in thought as Gunther continued, picking up for Levi.  
  
“ _If I were the Khal of another tribe, I too would have have my doubts. But I remain loyal to you, Khal Ymir. Never would I be strong enough to own my tribe, nor betray you to join another._ ”  
  
The brunette narrowed her eyes and brought her index a bit harder down onto the map. “ _Do you suggest my Khaleesi is not strong?_ “ Quickly, Gunther began to backpedal.  
  
“ _No! Not at all, my Khal! I was speaking through the thoughts of other Khals! Only you are my Khal and only she is my Khaleesi! I-I had my doubts, but she has proven me wrong._ ”  
  
Her strongest, Levi, did chose to weigh in. He glanced over at Ymir, his expression stony. “ _She is not strong. By Eotena standards, she is weak. Perhaps to those in Sina she might be, but they’re full of weak troops, shitty armies commanded by cowardly men. What is the strength of a dog in comparison to a lamb and that of a horse?_ ”  
  
Levi was blunt but he was wise. And he had a point. On the bright side, Gunther seemed to fear her wife, or he was a kiss-ass, but Levi was great in terms of honesty and speaking what was on his mind.  
  
“ _What do you suggest we do?_ ”

Just as the words left her mouth, Historia came into the tent. It was clear she was beyond pissed off, and before she could properly dismiss Gunther and Levi, they were ordered out. She did nod her head when Levi looked to her before they filed out.. “ _You… hit your brother?_ ”  
  
Hadn’t her brother hit her before? Did he attempt it again? He deserved to be hit and much worse.  
  
A surge of anger bubbled up inside her. Sure enough, upon closer inspection of her significant other, the beginnings of a bruise painted her cheek “ _You are hurt._ “ She mumbled, touching her cheek gently. Just as quickly, she brought her hand to her, clenching her fist. ” _I will have him killed. Your death threat will come true, Moon of my Life! Just you wait, I’ll…_ “  
  
No. Not yet. Historia was still attached to her brother for some odd reason. The snake had arranged this for an army, hadn’t he? An army he’d get. After his ass. She pushed her anger to the side briefly and breathed deeply through her nose. Historia was scared. She needed to calm her down and make sure she was okay.  
  
“ _Those lessons with Bertholdt must be paying off, huh? You struck him, did you not?_ ” Ymir sighed. “ _… He won’t kill you. I would never let that happen. If you desire, I will have guards appointed near him and some closer to our tent._ ”  
  


* * *

 

Bile rose in her throat the longer she fretted over Erwin’s threat. Yes, he had made the threat before but Historia had never physically or verbally lashed out in return. What would keep him from going through with his threat when he took the throne? Her own stupidity had sealed her family’s fate.  
  
Focused on her own fear, she jumped when Ymir touched her face then backed away to remove her beloved's hand. Right now, she didn't want to be touched. She did her best to slow her breathing as Ymir announced her intent to have Erwin killed. Killing him would do nothing but ensure that Historia would never see the lands of her birth.  
  
If the one true King was killed, all his supporters would turn their back on the unfamiliar princess. After all, who would want a Reiss back on the throne if she was proven to be like her father and quick to demand the death of her own family?  
  
Those not slain in the uprising were killed by the King’s Guard on her father’s orders. Her brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles… All gone except her and her brother.  
  
How could she threaten to kill the last remaining blood she had? She wasn’t mad like her father… but there was always that chance with the Reiss bloodline. Sneering words paired with leering looks, “ ** _They say that during the births of Reiss kids, the gods flip a coin to see if they’re crazy. All the inbreeding… Sick fucks._** ”  
  
Wringing her hands in her lap, Historia listened to Ymir but said nothing in return for a few seconds, trying to clear her mind and think logically. “ _… I moved Erwin near the horses. Let’s move Reiner of Braun to his old tent, and my tent with Sasha in it directly behind ours. Then we have all sides covered, correct?_ "  
  
It seemed silly to have everyone around them, but she didn’t trust her brother not to do something irrational and attack one of them. That would be death on his own head and she didn’t want that.  
  
For the time being, she was the most safe in Ymir’s presence. Erwin wouldn’t attempt something here and now, at least she hoped.  
  
Breathing steady, though her head was spinning still, she smiled a little. She had actually stuck up for herself against him. Even if she died today, she could die with pride.

Historia reached out for Ymir’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Wincing a little, Historia looked around the now empty tent. ” _I interrupted a meeting. Was it something important?_ “ She got up from her seat, releasing Ymir’s warm hand to look at the map. Anything was better than focusing on what had happened.  
  
” _Is this the road to Vaas Eotena?_ “ Historia’s hand traced a line on the map, reading the Eotena script. Whoever wrote it had beautiful handwriting. ” _I look forward to seeing where you grew up, My Sun and Stars._ “  
  
Six months of traveling and Ymir battling to have them arrive to the sacred land. Their traveling Khalasar was large, but nothing compared to what Sasha had told her of the Eotena base camp. Vaas Eotena would mean safety and security for a short time. More so than when they were packing and unpacking each evening.  
  
Leaning on the small table, she tilted her head as she looked at Ymir’s scars once more. She knew a lot about her wife– favorite positions, foods, how she slept, how many freckles were on her rear, the way she spoke to different people depending on how much she liked them that day– but she had very little grasp of the battles she had won or if there were plans to over take a local tribe.  
  
A tad morbid for a Queen, but Historia knew that she wasn’t exactly the most classical queen nor was she a classical khaleesi.  
  
" _Are there tribes nearby that are controlled by other Khals?"_  She asked, looking at a few pieces on the map. A horse that looked much like Ymir’s held high over their place on the land and several smaller horses littered the map. " _Was that why Levi was angry?"_  
  


* * *

 

The arrangement of tents could be done easily. The idea of moving Ser Reiner was a bit odd, but perhaps Historia could use to have someone more… Sinain. Sometimes Ymir forgot Historia’s heritage, aside from the fair skin and blonde hair, not to mention those dark blue eyes… Shit, no, she was not getting turned on. They didn’t have the time to have sex in the tent anyway.  
  
The khal said nothing else but nodded at the idea. She would think about it. The idea made Historia safer, but wouldn’t that arrangement involve the movement of her strongest warrior? Perhaps not. She would figure it out. And allow her wife the small comfort of another non-Eotena stationed outside her tent. Their tent? Who gave a fuck anymore - their tent. Historia spent enough time in there for it to be considered her tent, and Ymir roughly the same.  
  
“ _Usually one form of punishment for disobedience is to make a man walk alongside a tribe that rides._ ” Ymir rubbed her chin. “ _I refuse to discuss it. He shall walk._ ”  
  
The tug on her hand forced her features to soften as she looked over. Her eyes narrowed as she moved closer to the map Ymir had been studying. A meeting - right, she had been in a meeting. Her anger and Khaleesi’s commands had distracted her from the more important things. Important as in life-threatening for the tribe as a whole, not just Historia and her khalship.  
  
Ymir sighed as the hold was released and she chose to take the space beside Historia.  
  
There were so many other tribes they had to worry about, sort of. Sure, Ymir was terrifying and no one other than sheer idiots or cocky leaders whom had no right to be, but there were still other tribes. Other tribes that very could, one day overpower her should she not be too careful. But that could never really happen, could it? Ymir was arguably one of the greatest khals of all time aside from the Great Titan. One day ‘The Titan That Fucks The World’ would show up and Ymir damn near didn’t want to die any time soon if she could help it. If she was gonna go down to another Khal, she would be proud to fight them and die. Anyone else? Not worth it.  
  
Her hand went to rest on Historia’s, lightly guiding it along one of the markers on the map as she leaned over. Fuck it, she was kinda horny and could stand to get off. Besides, Historia seemed a bit more active than usual, the past fortnight, and why not push her luck a little.  
  
“ _Foolish khals - don’t even deserve the title of king come looking for glory through battles. There are many different leaders with different ways of thought… Vaas Eotena is a place of peace where no one fights, a haven for all khalasar. Celebrations, usually, big events, sometimes a spot to catch up and rest…_ ” Ymir smirked as she dropped her voice and moved more towards the khaleesi’s ear, stopping her hand near the marker for their tribe. “ _Levi will get over it. He’s just upset I refuse to share you with anyone._ ”  
  
It was a joke. Sort of. Traditionally, a khaleesi could be taken by the bloodriders as it was believed they all fought as one and would share the wealth and fortune as one.  
  
Ymir didn’t give a fuck. Levi was simply cranky he wasn’t getting laid on a daily basis.  
  
“ _I could cause a river to form in another valley if you tire of looking at the ones on the maps,_ ” the khal nearly purred into her ear as she tilted her head to look more at Historia and raise an eyebrow, pressing the hard plane of her torso against Historia’s supple body. A wordless conversation beginning to take place.  
  
However, before Ymir could say anything else, or grind her hips against her wife with her growing arousal, the sound of horses met Ymir’s ears. The khal scowled as she straightened her posture and backed off.  
  
“ _Khal Ymir!_ ” Marco came into the tent. “ _There’s– Khal Jean. His tribe is here - in peace, they say._ ”  
  
There was no ceremonial battle cry, so of course it was in peace. Unless Jean was breaking tradition. But the two went long back. He would never break anything in their ways, being part of a more old fashioned tribe that Ymir, and he would never attack. The two had a pact started back when Jean had assumed leadership of his own tribe not much longer after Ymir. Perhaps three years difference.  
  
Whatever it was, it had to be really important. They were both headed towards Vaas Eotena, and if it couldn’t wait…  
  
“ _Perhaps you ought to see another tribe for yourself._ ” Ymir nodded her head, squaring her jaw as she followed Marco out.

It did not take long at all to spot Khal Jean as he began to approach Ymir. He was the fairest skinned of khals, though certainly not pale like someone outside of Eotena blood. No, the fellow khal was pale from many scars and some odd inability to tan quite as dark, though his skin still was tanned well by the sun. Jean walked forward, less like that of a khal, and Ymir would note he had not been on his horse while riding through. 

Curious. She would not call him out on it, though. Such a thing would be embarrassing for a khal. Instead, she gave a nod of her head just as the other did the same.

“ _ What brings you among my tribe outside of Vaas Eotena, Jean? Do your people wish to see what a real camp looks like? _ ” 

“ _ As pleasant a greeting as always, Ymir. _ ” The freckled khal gave a mighty laugh as Jean shook his head. “ _ How long has it been now? Eight moons? Nine? And who is this, may I ask, that stands where your blood normally would? _ ” Marco was close but on opposite side. Such was kind of custom. “ _ A Khaleesi, huh? _ ” 

She could gossip about her wife, later. If Jean had actually come to speak with her outside their usual grounds or conditions, something was up.

* * *

 

Feeling the warmth that radiated off Ymir on the exposed skin of her back, Historia gave a soft sigh and let her hand be moved to trace the map. The land was so vast when she looked at it on the map, and wondered if Sina would be as large compared to the Badlands. Oh, how she wanted that throne.  
  
For a moment, her face crinkled up, unseen to Ymir. _She_ wanted the throne? No, she wanted her brother on the throne, for the Reiss family. She had no place on the throne.  
  
It must have been the pregnancy that made her so stupidly ambitious.  
  
Arching into the brunette, she chuckled at the voice in her ear. Make that stupidly ambitious _and_ absolutely insatiable. Historia was Ymir’s and Ymir’s alone, they both knew that. The khaleesi trusted Ymir that she was the only one for her as well. There was something about the possessiveness between the two that only served to stoke the fire in Historia’s belly.  
  
Given her way, Ymir was going to be in her chair and a mess in a few moments…  
  
Ymir’s sudden movement away made Historia jump, her head turning to the sound of hooves on clay.  
  
The announcement came perfectly timed, leaving Historia enough time to will herself back from her lustful state. “ _… Right._ ” She said, taking only a second longer to compose herself to the perfected khaleesi expression and air. Pissed off, slightly apathetic, thoroughly unimpressed with everything around her. She had enough anger left over after her altercation with Erwin to last her.  
  
Outside, she caught eyes with Sasha, who approached her to see what was going on. “Khal Jean - He has arrived under peaceful conditions.” Historia said, looking over her shoulder. “Are you unharmed?”  
  
“Ai, Khaleesi. A little sore, but there have been worse things.” The handmaiden replied, resting a hand on the blonde’s hip for a moment.  
  
“That is good to hear.” Squaring her shoulders as an unfamiliar man approached, she quickly gave another command. “Have Ser Reiner fetch my brother. He is to watch him the entire time, but he should be here for this. You stay far away from him and near me when you return.”  
  
Sasha bowed her head and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Historia with her wife and their kin.  
  
Historia approached the side of Ymir, keeping back slightly, as was her place. The man was almost pale like her, with sun-lightened hair. Once he moved closer, she saw that the paleness of his skin was due to the scarring. Intricate like Ymir’s, though not as impressive in her mind.  
  
They spoke quickly, much too fast for Historia to keep up with. Such was her plight with most Eotena speaking natives. Nothing seemed off, neither Ymir nor Khal Jean put off a feeling disdain or mistrust. So all was well? Was this a visit with old Blood? How interesting…  
  
Another head of fair hair caught her eye, spotting her brother off to the side with Reiner at his side. His face was still bloody from their fight, and a small surge of pride enveloped Historia. She had left quite the mark on Erwin. He deserved it, to be sure.  
  
What didn’t settle well with her was Levi at his side, whispering in his ear. Did Levi speak Sinian? She wouldn’t have thought so, given his lineage… She would have to ask Ymir later that night after they had made up for the act interrupted and when Ymir was most calm.  
  
“ _A Khaleesi, huh?_ ”  
  
The addressing forced her attention to Khal Jean, looking surprised for a moment.  
  
“ _A fair Khaleesi was what you picked?_ ” The man laughed, raising an eyebrow. “ _Does she even speak our language?_ ”  
  
That was rather insulting, but then again, the Eotena weren’t formal upon meeting people from across the Narrow Sea. How did she go about this?  
  
Matching his expression, she smirked for a moment. “ _Forgive me, I was waiting to see if I saw you worth of speaking to. While I am not entirely certain of all words I hear, I am more than capable of handling myself in conversation, your grace._ ” He was not her Khal, but she would show him the same respect she would show any leader.  
  
It would be a tense moment between the two as they sized one another up, before Jean let out a boisterous laugh and Historia let out a pent up breath.  
  
“ _Ballsy! Why did I expect any less from the Khaleesi of Ymir?_ ” Clapping Ymir on the shoulder, Jean nodded. “ _I have much to tell you. Can we speak alone?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I might have over estimated my chapter cut offs. The smut might be another 2 chapters away, but I will make up for it by posting an additional fic immediately after of exclusive to AO3 content that was never put on tumblr that's significantly dirtier than I dared to post.
> 
> Also, I remembered that I didn't link any of my social media, so I'll probably go back and add it to the first chapter, but if you wanna, follow me on tumblr and twitter with the same username: fatelessfalling
> 
> Just in case I miss it and don't post before hand, have the merriest Christmas and happiest of any holidays you celebrate!


	11. Blessings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As well versed as I've become in Dothraki, there's probably a little explanation needed for some of the terms coming up this chapter.
> 
> Khalakki - princess, daughter of the khal  
> Khalakka - prince, son of the khal  
> Khalakkia - a term coined by Ymir for herself in terms of relation to her father  
> Ko - a singular bloodrider, a sign of authority, though only used in formal conversation.
> 
> Dothraki is fun. Makes sense when you see it practice, not as easy to speak.

Ymir stuck her chest out a bit farther in pride over her wife’s tongue. They were getting somewhere. A real fiery khaleesi, Ymir wouldn’t have it any other way. She could gossip about her wife, later. If Jean had actually come to speak with her outside their usual grounds or conditions, something was up.  
  
With a sniff, Ymir nodded her head, ordering a few of her closest men to follow, and allowing Historia to come with. After all, Historia had to see a little bit of what goes on at some point. The group gathered into the larger tent where Ymir held all of her meetings and important decisions outside of keeping track of other tribes.  
  
Ymir sat herself on her pile of furs, her knees up as she leaned forward and cupped her chin with one hand while looking up at Jean. He refused to sit. Now Ymir was really worried here. Still, she waited for him to speak once more.  
  
“ _You may follow the winds, but my tribe follows the clouds for any sign of a storm. When the clouds disappear, we head towards the north and wait. The pattern continues for roughly three moons. This has been our way for years beyond my great grandfather’s birth._ ”   
  
“ _Why are you telling me this?_ ” Ymir’s fingers barely covered her mouth.  
  
“ _The clouds we are following now have stayed together and only grown in size over six months._ ” Six months? Ymir hadn’t noticed anything different with the skies - then again, she hadn’t been watching them. Hadn’t she had a dream where she was meant to–   
  
Now that she thought about it, she had noticed clouds not too far off.  
  
“ _Perhaps we have different schools of thought–_ ”  
  
“ _–Thinking is for men with skinny arms._ ”  
  
“ _Be that as it may, Elder Pixis believes the coming Khal of Khals is to be here. The Great Titan is still deciding._ ” Oh not this shit again. Ymir was told one thing, Marco said another, Jean was back with the first thing. It was good news, ish, but Ymir was not exactly the most patient. “ _We are waiting for lightning to strike._ ”  
  
Ymir shook her head. “ _And then what? Let’s say the Great Titan is to bless our tribe - what are you doing here other than wasting my time with stories?_ ” The freckled khal furrowed her brow. Words said one thing, but the mannerisms of the brunette spoke louder.  
  
“ _Allow my tribe to sit alongside yours for the night. I will speak of things tomorrow._ ”  
  
“ _You will do no such thing!_ ” Ymir barked. “ _If it involves staying close, I must be told why other than safety. Why would I attack you in the first place?_ ”   
  
“ _Look, I may be a khal and one that upholds tradition, but I am not one willing to die for prideful reasons. If the khal of khals is announced to be here, I would like to pledge myself and my tribe to you. I rather live than be usurped and beheaded in time._ ”  
  
Well, that was not what Ymir was expecting to hear. At all. The khal’s eyes widened as she stared, leaning back.  
  
“ _You would step down from khal over a storm._ ”  
  
“ _Yes._ ”  
  
“… _That’s fucked up._ ”  
  


* * *

 

Their exchange over, Historia was allowed into the tent to listen in on their conversation. It was a generous offer, and she wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity. If Ymir ever needed to leave and place Historia in charge, she needed to know how to go about these interactions.  
  
“Reiner, return my brother.” She said, flippant about her command as she entered the tent with Sasha kneeling at her right to translate for her if she needed. Thankfully, Historia had come to understand much more as her marriage went on.  
  
Historia adjusted to sit on more furs, keeping an eye on the newcomers. “Lightning struck, huh?” She spoke under her breath to be sure only Sasha heard her.  
  
“Ai. They believe that Ymir will be the next to be blessed.” The brunette maiden replied, squinting as Jean spoke of his intentions. “Jean is willing to step down if the storm strikes here within a day and a night. He would rather join the tribe of the Khal of Khals rather than fight against them.”  
  
“Smart man.” Historia leaned forward to ease the strain on her back. “My brother could learn from him as much as Ymir.” Sasha snickered at Historia’s joke at her brother’s expense. It took a moment to hit Historia fully, but eventually it dawned on her. If Ymir was to be lightning struck, and the Khal of Khals in the same tribe. “… Do they think that Ymir’s child will be the Khal of Khals?”  
  
“That’s the consensus, Khaleesi.” Sasha nodded, smiling knowingly. “You might be carrying said child. It’s exciting, is it not?”  
  
The realization hit Historia fully. If the lightning struck, Ymir and her would be blessed and the baby would be proven as the Khal of Khals.  
  
She had to take a second and step back from the situation. That was… That was improbable. There were many other pregnant women, and women who were bound to get pregnant this night… Oh, the room was spinning again.  
  
Ymir’s crass response to Jean’s declaration forced Historia to think quickly, though the fog in her brain. “ _Please, My Khal,_ ” she started, standing up slowly so that she didn’t seem off balance due to her vertigo. “ _Let me plan an event for Khal Jean, in lieu of his decision either way. We have much to celebrate with your recent reunion, and the potential for what is to come tonight._ ” Historia smiled kindly, no longer bothering to place the hard facade.  
  
“ _Sasha, make sure that Khal Jean and his men have everything they need. We already have a tent set up for an esteemed guest such as he, correct?_ ” Her brother’s tent would be perfect.  
  
God be good, everything fell into place today for a reason. While everyone was bustling around, reacquainting or introducing themselves, Historia leaned over to Ymir with a small smile. “ _And once you’ve finished catching up with the Khal, I have dinner prepared for you to relax, My Sun and Stars. Do take your time and enjoy yourself._ ” She said, resting her hand a top of Ymir’s for a moment before she slipped out of the tent.  
  
Sighing softly, she reached for Sasha once they were outside. “I know I am piling a lot of stuff on your shoulders tonight, but if there is a storm, the moment the skies clear, I need you to find the place the lightning strikes.”  
  
The handmaiden nodded, giving Historia’s hand a squeeze. “Understood, Khaleesi.”  
  
***  
  
Many hours later, Historia gave a soft groan as she stretched out on one of the furs in front of the fire. The temperature outside had dipped significantly from the normally suffocating dry heat of the Badlands.   
  
For being the first time she had ever cooked on her own, Historia thought she had done a pretty great job! Some Sinian dishes, some Eotena like honey duck and horse jerky. At least… the cheese buns were good. It was about the only thing she could stomach still.  
  
Snuggled up, she leaned her head on Ymir’s firm thigh, looking up at her. “My Sun and Stars,” she spoke up, picking at a cheese bun before popping a piece in her mouth, “ _What will the Khal of Khals do? Why is it a large honor?_ ” She wanted to know what it meant to Ymir.   
  
Ymir could be such an enigma that it was hard to find the right questions to ask in order to get anywhere.  
  
Her eyes were growing heavy, exhausted from the long, turbulent day. Her brother, Jean, the event tomorrow, the storm tonight… It was tiring.  
  
As she was getting comfortable, a loud rumble vibrated the ground mere seconds before a light flashed outside, illuminating the tent in striking colors for a half second. And then the rain began to pour.  
  
Just like that, Historia was wide awake, staring at Ymir. “… _W-Was that…?_ ”  
  


* * *

 

Ymir wasn’t quite sure still what had brought Historia to cook, but she wasn’t necessarily complaining. The Eotena warlord had been hesitant to try anything she did not immediately recognize, and after some coaxing found she did like some of these odd Sinian dishes presented before her. Sure, it was not as great as one of those who cooked for her made things, but it was edible. Besides, there was something sort of nice about having her wife cook something for the two of them.  
  
At the same time, Historia was her khaleesi. A khaleesi was not meant to do work that slaves and lower women were meant to do. Cooking was one of them. All Historia was really meant to do was please Ymir and handle the stuff Ymir felt she didn’t want to. That had been the plan at least. Ymir never expected to fall in love with Historia like she was to the extent she did, or respect her and begin to see her as equal. No, not equal, above Ymir in some ways beyond the title of a khal. To explain such aloud would be foolish, however, so she would attempt no such thing.  
  
The two currently sat together, Ymir atop a small pile of furs with Historia by her legs to be closer to the fire. At the mention of Jean’s odd reasons for being close brought up, Ymir could only give a light scoff. First her dreams, now this, the khal couldn’t help but question the role the stories of old played with her life.  
  
“ _There are many tales the Eotena tell. Impossible to learn them all so quick._ ” Ymir teased for a moment, looking down and offering a smile and a raise of her brow. She stared instead into the flames as a hand absently stroked her lover’s golden hair. “ _The khal of khals, it’s how it sounds. The Great Titan once controlled all the tribes. No fighting amongst ourselves. After he passed, everyone divided. The khal of khals will bring everyone together once again and fuck over the world._ ”  
  
As if by some magical cue, only mere moments later, a loud rumbling sound roared overhead. A warrior groaning after removing a blade from his shoulder while trying to not sound weak was the closest Ymir could get to describing it. It was a sound Ymir hadn’t exactly heard before, not while in these vast desert lands, but once on the very edge to the poisonous waters. Never had she actually heard it from above, but when she had it was accompanied by a downpour of rain onto the sea just feet away from the shore.  
  
With it a flash of light. Suddenly, the exact sound of rain hitting the ground harshly, similar to it striking water like she had seen before long ago. Whatever the strike was, Ymir had to assume it was lightning, and with it she heard a loud whooping and ululating from outside for a few seconds. Jean’s tribe. Which only meant…  
  
“… _Lightning._ ” She answered.  
  
Ymir stared wide eyed at Historia for a second or two before turning red at the realization of what had happened and a bit confused by the actual meaning of lightning striking. One stallion of thought claimed it meant the khal of khals was to arrive. The second, a khal and khaleesi deemed of a love pure enough to that the Great Titan would call it a blessing.  
  
She really did love Historia. Historia had to love her back. No one else made Ymir feel the way she did, so Ymir could only see things one way.  
  
Forget a khal of khals in their tribe. Ymir would have a damn good run if that were the case - she’d make her last battle legendary. But that was a couple years down the road, it seemed. For now…  
  
“ _Historia,_ ” Ymir picked Historia up, using her arms to act as a sort of seat as she looked up at the blonde beauty. On her face lay the biggest of shit-eating grins while lowering Historia enough to be closer to her face. “ _We’ve been lightning-struck. If the Great Titan says it, you must love me beyond as your khal._ ”   
  
The freckled khal’s expression softened. “… _Which says the same for me to you._ ” A beat. Declaring her love aloud wasn’t exactly next out of her mouth as she saw the blonde look at disease. " _Perhaps there is a mistake. You do not look well, Moon of my Life._ ”  
  


* * *

 

Historia was less shaken by things as time went on. Bloodshed? A necessary evil to survive. People having sex in public? An act of intimacy to share with the tribe and the Great Titan. Taking over a tribe? More people for her khal to command.  
  
But a storm… There were very few thunderstorms like this back where she came from. Nothing struck so close as to shake her to the core. Once the first hit, several others hit after it, and the rain came pouring down, hitting the canvas of their tent loudly. It nearly drowned out the sound of Khal Jean’s people celebrating the storm and their khal’s choice.  
  
“ _So w-we’re–_ ” She was quickly quieted by Ymir’s excited movements, barely containing her shaking.  
  
She looked abundantly happy at the lightning going on, she felt guilty at being scared of something so natural that meant the world to Ymir.  
  
The khaleesi hadn’t been aware of her sick and terrified expression, too entranced by the storm and Ymir’s celebrating. Brought down closer to face level, she did her best to lean back so her baby bump wouldn’t be noticeable against Ymir’s stomach.   
  
“ _No!_ ” She said, reaching up to place her hands on Ymir’s face to reassure her, smiling gently. “ _I mean– Yes, I do love you more than just as my Khal. You’re my wife. My Sun and Stars._ ” She cooed, kissing the tip of her nose then her lips. “ _I did not need The Great Titan to tell me that I loved you beyond our titles. I would love you if you were nothing but the lowest warrior._ ”  
  
Another kiss against the Khal’s lips, her hands releasing her face to tangle in the dark tresses. Her heart raced and her body felt as though she had been put in flames. The longer their lips touched, the more she wanted Ymir above her, to distract her.  
  
She was still scared of the storm; of potentially carrying the Khal of Khal’s. That was a lot of responsibility for a girl of only sixteen… Thoughts of taking the throne for herself, for their child. Thoughts of ruling the world she was meant to live in. But for now, she would rule their tent, and Ymir’s mouth against her skin.  
  
***  
  
As much as she wanted to stay in bed the following morning, after having fallen asleep rather quickly after her and Ymir celebrated being lightning struck, there was something bigger to be planned.  
  
Bare feet stepped on to damp clay and grass, wetting the Khaleesi’s feet pleasantly. A childish instinct to jump in the puddles overcame Historia, but she restrained herself. It might have been early, but people were still awake to see her.  
  
Walking into the designated Khaleesi tent, Historia pulled her hair over her shoulder and ducked in, finding Sasha asleep in her bed, as she was allowed to do… and another set of feet sticking out of the bottom. “Uhm… Sasha?” Historia announced herself, looking up at the top of the tent as a male’s voice made a surprised noise and fell out of the bed.  
  
“ _Khaleesi!_ ” Two voices said in sync, scrambling to get dressed.

“ _You did not say this was her tent!_ ”  
  
“ _Did you really think I have a tent this nice?_ ”  
  
“ _Maybe!_ ”  
  
“Khaleesi, I’m so sorry– _Connie, get out of here!_ ”  
  
Historia had to keep from snickering, keeping her eyes averted though her face was smug. Of course Sasha wasn’t in trouble, this was probably the safest place for her to bring another man who took her respectfully.  
  
The bald soldier ran out of the tent, but not before bowing at the blonde. Sasha sat on the bed, covering herself with the fur of the bed. “… I did not mean to disrespect–”  
  
“Sasha, it is fine. If he treated you nicely, then there is nothing to worry about.” She said, handing the handmaiden her clothes. “Did you find the place where the lightning struck?”  
  
Reaching for the clothes, Sasha quickly got dressed and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. “I did! Connie helped me get a tent up over it so it would not flood. I will show it to you when you are ready.”  
  
“Are you sure you can walk? He seemed to be limping–”  
  
Strong fingers gently pinched the Khaleesi’s side, making her giggle as she silently dismissed Sasha to deal with her early morning duties. Historia debated using the time she was alone to catch a nap, even if she had just awoken, but ultimately decided to put it to better use.  
  
There was much to be done. Food to make, tents to put up, seats to set up, but in the end, it came together gracefully. Two tribes coming together, friends joining before the battle like no other would happen.  
  
Holding her arm in front of her body, Historia did her best to hide the slight bump of the baby while she talked with Jean and her wife, and the many other new members that came up to them. “ _My Sun and Stars, I believe it is time for Jean to swear his allegiance to you._ ” She said, taking a sip of her wine, smiling at Jean kindly.  
  


* * *

 

It had been easier to Ymir’s ego and heart to hear Historia reassure her that she was loved. Then to claim she would love her as much as a cart man? Her chest swelled with happiness and soon they were exchanging acts of admiration through intimacy.   
  
The next morning she woke up feeling in rather great spirits. A blessing from the Great Titan had been given, among their village, and she was gaining more warriors. Sure, more tribe mates was problematic, but having stronger men back her up, that was hardly a bad thing. The only thing bad was the number of feasts or celebrations Ymir felt like they were having with not enough action on her end. Well, action other than getting laid. To make up for the lack of fighting, she decided to join in on the hunting.  
  
Before they would set out, however, Jean needed to do good on his word in pledging his allegiance to Ymir. A man stepping down from khal… sure, it was foolish, but the man had earned his title fairly through combat and inheritance as Ymir had done. Yet here he was, suggesting his khalasar merge to become Ymir’s khalasar.   
  
Her khasar was made of men she could trust. Some of which, she was realizing, had been loyal to her father, not specifically her. Perhaps having Jean as her right-hand, her strongest, would help as she could weed out those loyal to her father instead and add Jean’s stronger khalasar members.  
  
Ymir was greeted halfway to the other khal’s tent as Jean bowed his head slightly. Jean was loyal. Ymir could trust him as her next strongest.  
  
“ _You really are backing down from the title of khal over this?_ ”  
  
“ _Who am I to argue with the Great Titan? The khal of khals will arrive here, and I will serve him. Just as I will serve you._ ” She was going to argue over her idea of what the storm meant, if it weren’t for Jean continuing. “ _These tales are ones our people have been passing on for years and years - clearly the Great Titan sees you and your khaleesi as worthy of raising the khal of khals to unite the tribes and fuck the world._ ”  
  
What? Ymir’s brows furrowed. “ _Lightning-struck is a blessing, but does not signal the khal of khals. Those are two different stories._ ”   
  
“ _They’re one in the same. That’s what I’ve been told._ ” Ymir blinked a couple times but said nothing else. There was no point in really arguing, as this was leading to her gaining more warriors.  
  
But Historia wasn’t expecting. That was what was throwing her off.   
  
Speaking of her wife, the blonde made her appearance, gently egging Jean on.   
  
“ _Who am I to go back on my word?_ ” Jean stood upright, his jaw set. Honestly, he was a terrifying man in his own way, and Ymir would be somewhat intimidated were they not allies previously. “I, Khal Jean, step down from my saddle and pledge myself as a ko to Khal Ymir, should I be permitted.” His right hand went to his arakh, twirling it somewhat fancily in one hand before positioning the blade over the scar that marked his khalship.   
  
There were a couple of ways to go about the process. The idea of one stepping down from their position of khal was practically unheard of, as who would ever want to quit being a khal? A khal was more powerful than any king or queen or any title. If one were to pass off their title to their son or heir, normally the khalakka (or khalakki in Ymir’s case - technically khalakkia) would have to kill his father in combat. In the case that the khalakka was too weak to decapitate their khal, a small blood sacrifice was made with the stripping of one’s scars by the khal themselves. More of a surrender tactic than any. Now, Ymir was not one to try and kill a man she had looked to as an ally who was willing to serve under her and follow her khalasar.  
  
With a nod of approval, Ymir gave her command, and with a rather clean motion, Jean had sliced off half of his mark. A splash of red decorated the ground, along with a strip of flesh. A bit morbid, but it had to be done.   
  
The whole time, Jean’s face remained deadpan, with the slightest wince visible but nothing more. He was now a ko, and deemed a part of Ymir’s khasar. With a turn of her head, aware of those who had been present, she called forth four men she was retiring from her khalasar, and gave recognition to three of Jean’s men. The short bald one did not seem strong, but she would take his words over his strength.   
  
“ _These are my bloodriders._ ” Ymir announced, standing beside Jean. “ _Ko Jean shall now be my strongest._ ” Oh, Levi did not look happy. Ymir made a mental note to keep an eye on him. “ _We will celebrate tonight. Tomorrow, we continue to Vaas Eotena._ ”   
  
Meeting adjourned. Ymir turned to Historia, raising an eyebrow. She knew her little wife was still learning how these things worked. To try and lighten her up, Ymir brought a hand to her khaleesi’s cheek, her thumb brushing against her pale skin in a comforting motion.   
  
“ _Things like these are not common._ ” The freckled khal kissed her forehead. Nothing else, really, as she parted and headed to joining her hunters.  
  


* * *

 

Sitting back against the wall of the tent, Historia watched as Jean stood in front of Ymir, their joined khalasar, and the Great Titan, devoting himself to the freckled khal. It was a brave act. Brief and bloody, as was the Eotena way. Even as adjusted as the khaleesi saw herself, the sound of flesh being taken off made her stomach turn and lose any hopes of consuming food tonight.  
  
Rising with the rest of their people, she watched Levi storm out of the tent, no doubt off to speak with her brother of the actions that transgressed. Her eyes shifted to Reiner, who met hers and nodded, following after him.  
  
Historia jumped when Ymir’s warm hand met with the skin of her cheek then laughed, beaming happily at her wife to let her know she was fine. It was just the baby being picky. “ _Enjoy your hunt, My Sun and Stars._ ” She said, kissing the heel of her palm and waiting for her to leave.  
  
The Khaleesi made her way around the tent, collecting Sasha and Hannah to help her with preparations for Ymir’s surprise when she returned.  
  
“You’re really going to go through with this, Khaleesi?” Sasha asked as the trio made their way to the tent that covered the place where the lightning struck. “I mean… This will make quite a statement.”  
  
Historia smirked a little to herself, resting a hand on the hard plane of her stomach that was the baby bump. “The Eotena believe that the best news and acts should be out in the open so that they may be shared with the Great Titan, correct?”  
  
Hannah nodded, starting in on the canvas of the tent. “Ai, Khaleesi. The Great Titan respects the bold. It is known.”  
  
“It is known.” Sasha echoed, still not entirely on board with the idea. This was her friend, and someone to be respected greatly. She only worried that this would bring the khaleesi down off the pedestal that some of the women had placed her on.  
  
Walking into the tent, Historia was happy to see that the soil had dried, but the grass around the singed hole had stayed soft. It would be a perfect place to tell Ymir and celebrate together.  
  
“Then this is what I want to do. My wife deserves a great honor, in the most traditional way.” Historia stepped up on one of the higher piles of dirt to reach a tie at her level, only for Hannah to gasp and swat her arms down.  
  
“ _No reaching! Bad for baby!_ ” She scolded, leading her outside the tent to have her sit. “ _You must not reach above your head. It is a bad omen and leads to a strangled child._ ”  
  
Sasha sighed and shook her head. “ _It is a wivestale, Hannah._ ”  
  
Historia scowled a little, but sat like she was forced to do. Ymir would be upset to know she was doing manual labor, anyways. She just wanted to help and be a part of setting up. Instead, she continued to ask questions about anything and everything she could think of. Vaas Eotena, the Council of Crones, Ymir’s parents, what would be expected of her as a pregnant Khaleesi… At least she had some idea of what would be to come.  
  
Tent down and area open, Sasha brought Historia back to the Khal’s tent with a promise to watch the area with Hannah until Historia and Ymir arrived. “If this goes well, the Khal might wish to marry you all over again.”  
  
“As long as I am the only one she is remarrying, I think I can handle this.” She replied, sending Sasha off with a wave so she could get ready for when Ymir returned.  
  
Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long before the sounds of horse hooves invaded her ears and Historia stood in the opening of their tent.  
  
Dark blue irises landed on her beautiful wife, looking smug and confident, with a nice bounty for the tribe. She waited for her to look over before crooking her finger at the Khal to beckon her closer. “ _I won’t be joining you, My Sun and Stars. I’m still feeling weary. Welcome Jean for me._ ” She purred quietly, kissing her hand and holding it to the Khal’s cheek. It was the closest she would come to blatant affection in public for the sake of her Khal.  
  
Left to herself for a few hours, she combed her hair out and braided a few pieces out of her face, and changing into something easier to take off later, Historia felt like she was ready to take on the monumental task ahead of her. Not that having sex in the open was exactly on Historia’s taboo list (so many breaks from riding to lay with her wife in the high grass), but to tell Ymir that they were expecting, and that it was the Khal of Khals, was going to be an interesting challenge.   
  
The sound of people departing tipped Historia off that Ymir might be returning to their tent soon, leaving her time to find a good place to be seen.  
  
She sat on the bed of furs, smiling innocently up at Ymir as she approached. “ _My Sun and Stars, I have a few gifts for you that I think you will want before I let you climb into bed with me._ ” She said, taking Ymir’s hand, trying to keep the giddy glint out of her eyes as she led Ymir from their tent.  
  
“ _We’ve been blessed greatly by the Great Titan._ ” She spoke quietly, pulling her hair over her shoulder. “ _To be lightning struck, to have your old friend join you as your ko… With a somewhat easy wife that doesn’t give you too much grief._ ” A light tease took to her voice, glancing down the path, finding the girls taking their leave. “ _But we have much more than that to celebrate with this feast, My Sun and Stars._ ”  
  
Leading Ymir with a gentle tug of her hand, she looked up at her then at the ground. “ _I had Sasha find the spot… The only place for miles. The Great Titan was nice enough not to just directly strike our tent._ ” Historia released the Khal’s hand, letting her look around for a moment.   
  
Her cheeks turned bright red in anticipation, thankful that Ymir was still turned away. “ _And another blessing, a few weeks early…_ ” She said, a little louder to call Ymir’s attention, biting at her lip as she gracefully untied the strings of her shirt to come open and fall to the ground, revealing her torso, and causing her pants to hang lower on her hips. “ _Ymir…_ ”  
  
She took a hesitant step, the movement causing the pants to slide down her legs and be left behind as she placed Ymir’s hand over her lower abdomen, pressing against barely noticeable bump. “ _All signs point to us already having the Khal of Khals with us._ ”

  
Naked as the day she was born, in front of anyone that walked by, under the watch of her old gods, the Great Titan and the pale wash of the moon, Historia had never felt so sure that this had been the best decision of her life.  
  


* * *

 

Ymir had returned from her hunt not much later, only a couple of hours. Her head held high, the cockiest of grins on her face, anyone could tell they had made well on their hunt. Even as Ymir dismounted the Red and strode through, her walk was less intimidating but more of a khal that felt nothing bad could happen or dampen her spirits. At least, until Historia beckoned her over.   
  
The khal was expecting to be laid, seeing as they hadn’t done anything this morning, and usually when Ymir was sweaty or bloody Historia wanted her company. Sort of. Here she was, expecting to get physically intimate, only to be informed that her wife would be absent from the celebration tonight. It was not the best news, but she supposed if the blonde wasn’t feeling well that she should stay put. Besides, perhaps it would be best not to have Historia as a distraction, as the retired ko members and her ex-strongest were probably bitter and needed to be watched to cheer up.  
  
As the sun set, the feast began. It was rather joyous, and Jean’s new title was not a bad one, arguably a bit more suited for him than a khalship. He sat beside Ymir, taking Marco’s usual spot as the two talked and joked for a good portion of the evening. Two men died, but it was no real big deal. Still, the freckled woman kept an eye out, noticing a lack of the annoying older blond male that kept requesting his army and hurting her wife.   
  
Oh no, he was not getting the title of a “brother” or “in-law” at this point. No, he was the false khal– not even, he was a king. Kings were less than khals, in her mind, and why give him a title in her own tongue?  
  
Seeing as they had not laid with another all day, Ymir made it a point to drink only one cup of wine and not her usual three or more. Anything beyond three made her head swim, and the last thing she wanted was to get laid on such a great day and do so while inebriated. She wanted to remember everything as this was a great day for her.  
  
Heading into her tent, she found her wife clothed still, stirring the khal’s interests and arousal. Speaking of gifts and waiting was not on Ymir’s list of things she wanted to do. However, she did know she was definitely getting laid. The way Historia spoke and her movements said enough.   
  
“ _A gift?_ ” The freckled warlord questioned. “ _Wouldn’t you rather receive a gift first before going anywhere?_ ”  
  
They both knew that would end with neither of them leaving the bed. So Ymir was led back outside the tent. Earlier she had noted a foreign tent set up in front of where her larger decisions were made and the menial tasks that came with being khal. Marco had claimed he had no idea why it was set up and Ymir had complained that it needed to be taken down immediately. It had been, though there was a mark in the ground Ymir had not noticed when they had first set up camp here.   
  
It was a decent size, with what appeared to be glass or something inside of the hole itself. Was this the gift? Ymir’s mind would quickly catch up that this was where the lightning had struck, as she listened to Historia.   
  
Her voice got a bit louder, forcing Ymir’s head up at the mention of an early blessing. Of course, she tuned out slightly as her eyes watched Historia’s hands and soon her khaleesi was shirtless.  
  
It was said the most intimate of acts were to be done underneath the night sky. They had plenty of encounters outside, but never at night under the open sky. To be presented so openly in a way to the Great Titan, especially after receiving a blessing… Her wife was rather smart.  
  
“… _Ai?_ ” Ymir inhaled deeply trying to look up to gaze into Historia’s eyes rather than her chest or her pants falling–   
  
Okay she would focus instead on her hand as Historia took it. It was led down, of course, but not where Ymir had been expecting her palm to land. No, not on her lover’s mound to slip between her folds, but on her stomach. What was odd is how hard the skin seemed, or rather underneath it, and a slight bump Ymir had never noticed before.  
That certainly hadn’t happened overnight. All this time, Ymir had been so focused on making an heir to realize they already had. How long had Historia known? How had Ymir not been made aware of this earlier? Did this mean both tales were true and that they were expecting a khal of khals?  
  
“ _You are pregnant with our baby?_ ” The words had tumbled out far too quick for Historia to catch them. She paused for a second, moving the hand that had been frozen to the same spot in a small, gentle, rubbing motion. “ _You are with child?_ ” Better.   
  
“… _A blessing from the Great Titan._ ”  
  
Somehow this news and realization of being a father, having an heir, only served to turn Ymir on all the more. Deciding she might as well bear herself to the public and moon as well, Ymir stepped away if only to feverishly discard her top and dip her head down to tend to one of Historia’s breasts. Since when had the khal been known for being patient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a double upload (maybe triple if I can get the time). I'll have the fun baby celebration stuff up in a few hours!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Merry Christmas Eve!


	12. A Public Celebration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly belated but merry smutmas!

She had to give it to her wife: Ymir could keep her eyes where they needed to be when she wanted to. Standing naked in front of Ymir, she expected at least a quick run of her body, but instead, she remained completely still, only glancing down to look at her stomach.  
  
The Khaleesi waited patiently and silently as Ymir’s hand rubbed over the area, her mind putting everything together.  
  
When the words came out, Historia only caught the very end, confused as to why Ymir would question if it was theirs. Does she think I’ve been sleeping with someone else? She thought, only to get a question in better pace for her still learning ears. The uneasy look on her face melted away, giving way to a grin as wide as the Moon. “ _Our heir. Two months and a few moons._ ” She said, nodding at Ymir’s confirmation at the blessing.  
  
Just as quickly, Ymir was back to being insatiable and wanting Historia and she was more than happy to let her have what she wanted.  
  
Already naked, Historia was able to appreciate the freckled Khal’s animalistic nature, her senses further on alert due to being out in the open, feeling at least a single pair of eyes on the Khal and Khaleesi.  
  
Her jaw dropped in a silent moan as Ymir’s mouth attacked her breasts, causing her to squirm in place from the sensitivity. Pale digits tangled into her dark hair, tugging at the tresses gently with a quiet gasp as Ymir’s lips met with an overly sensitive nipple. The heat building at the apex of her thighs was quickly spreading across her body, fueling the small blonde’s need.  
  
Once her breast was freed, Historia took her lips as her own, her tongue slipping into the other’s mouth to play. The unoccupied hand busied itself with the front of Ymir’s pants, rubbing against her wife’s hard cock beneath the fabric. Leaving her pent up all day, and with as active as they had been recently, must have been torture for the woman she loved.  
  
She could feel the heat radiating through the pants, and the muscle pulse under her touch. A soft moan leaked between the two’s joined mouths in anticipation of being taken by her, but there was so much more she wanted to do before they got to laying with one another. This was Ymir’s day, and Historia planned on catering to her in every way possible and showing just how grateful she was to the Great Titan and the khalasar to have her wife.  
  
Untangling her other hand from Ymir’s hair, she nipped at her lip and gently ran her nails down Ymir’s stomach as the other hand darted into her pants to grab her length. Completely unabashed, she took her out and let the pants fall to the ground to join her discarded clothes. “ _Oh Gods_ …” She mumbled quietly, stroking the head of her cock to make it slick with pre-cum.  
  
Her eyes opened, hazy and murky with lust, focusing on Ymir’s the best she could through the fogginess of her mind.  
  
“ _Ymir,_ ” She said huskily, giving the woman’s member a squeeze before slowly sinking to her knees, never losing eye contact with the Khal. Sasha had given her so much good advice, but Historia would never be able to thank her enough to telling her to learn to make and enjoy eye contact.  
  
A hot, pink tongue darted out, swiping with a lick to the leaking tip as her hand worked the rest of Ymir’s cock. Going all the way down to the base, Historia gave a broad lick all the way up the length.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Historia could have sworn she saw a head of golden hair much like her brother’s, only stoking the fire inside the khaleesi.  
  
Her lips wrapped around the head of Ymir’s cock, sucking gently before wandering the first few inches as she had done so often before. There was just something thrilling about teasing her wife with a slow pace when she was always so impatient. But this was all about Ymir getting what she wanted, not Historia’s need to drive her crazy…  
  
Without warning and without losing eye contact, Historia lowered as deep as she could go, bobbing her head enough to get a good suction going around her hard cock, her hand coming up to rest on Ymir’s hip just in case she decided to buck. Curling her free hand around the portion she couldn’t fit into her moist mouth, Historia raised only to come down again and again, swirling her tongue around the tip when she got to it.  
  
A small series of moans erupted from her busy mouth at the feeling of her wetness leaking down her legs, reminding her of just how badly she needed Ymir.  
  
Releasing Ymir’s cock from her mouth with an audible pop, her hand continued to travel Ymir’s length, though much slower. “ _I need you, My Sun and Stars,_ ” she said almost sheepishly, laving another lick on the head of her cock before sitting back until her rear hit the soft grass. “ _Take me here… I want our Gods to see my amazing Khal as she is._ ”  
  


* * *

 

There were few things that made Ymir go absolutely crazy with lust. One of which involved blood, one she would never understand, but a battle always led to her being horny as hell and wanting relief. The other one, almost as important, was this attraction to performing exhibitionism. It was common in the tribe, and while she did not get off from watching others commit adultery, the idea of her doing so herself got her going. It seemed she had converted her wife to such enjoyment at the act given the times in the past moon cycles they had laid together in the tall grass as a break from riding. This was different than tall grass, though, as the khal and khaleesi currently stood not far from the heart of the camp in a wide open space.  
  
Ymir placed a few open mouthed kisses upon Historia’s breasts, grazing her teeth over the nipple she currently had captured between her lips. The twin mound would not be ignored, as a hand went up to roughly handle the blonde in a gentle way, if that made any sense at all. It didn’t really have to. All that mattered is that sharp intake of breath she caught, though subtle, as a smirk made its way onto the freckled woman’s face.   
  
Unfortunately she wasn’t given more time to play with her wife’s chest. They met with a kiss, teasing and intense all at the same time. A hand on Ymir’s crotch caused her to bite down on Historia’s lip. A small movement and a moan was was she received. The next thing Ymir knew, it was suddenly cooler and her dick was being grabbed by a rather needy khaleesi. The warlord was spared any more waiting and gave a low hiss in pleasure as a familiar warmth wrapped around her cock.  
  
She wanted to return the favor. At the same time, Ymir was actually tired and knew after she had gotten her release she’d be passing out for the evening. Well, no, they’d probably have another round in the tent before Ymir called it a night.  
  
The whole thing was great if Ymir was lazy. Normally, Ymir wanted to actually do something other than be serviced by a mouth. There was a grunt or two that leaked out of her mouth and a moan as her wife decided to be generous and give her exactly what Ymir wanted. She sucked a breath in through her teeth, squinting one eye near close while watching Historia. How much could change in a small amount of time… A particularly rough motion had Ymir gasp and thrust forward, stopped by the hand to her hip from choking the other.  
  
Even though they had not been there long, Historia having started sucking her off only minutes ago, Ymir could only buck her hips slightly, her thoughts a complete mess as she tried to keep herself from coming too close to the edge too soon. A hand rested gently atop the blonde’s head, as if guiding her motions though she did no such thing. It was right when she was going to tell Historia to stop, to regain herself, that her wife had a similar thought and released her from her grip.  
  
“ _Do you?_ ” Ymir knelt onto the ground, breathing heavily for a few seconds as she tried to steady her nerves.   
  
She would have made another snarky comment had Historia not politely demanded to be taken that very moment. Yet, Ymir knew her body, and if she just took Historia that very second, she would last maybe a minute. That, and she wanted to hear Historia cry her name, let everyone in their tribe worry and come out to see what the khaleesi was shouting about involving their khal.  
  
So instead of just jumping straight into things, Ymir plunged two fingers in roughly and deeply into the woman, grinning all the while. Her fingers were practically soaked from entry and the khal decided to tease the other a bit. Give the Great Titan and their khalasar a bit of a show, why not? She could tell a good few people were watching now.  
  
“ _I suppose I can. The Great Titan would enjoy the view. Anyone would. And be reminded only I get the experience._ ” Her digits rubbed against the side of one of her walls, as if massaging the velvety passage. “ _Moon of my life…_ ” And with that she removed her hand by about an inch before returning it and continuing a back and forth motion. “ _I do not think you want me enough._ ”  
  
Yes Ymir was an ass, but she was proud she could make her wife aroused in such a way.  
  


* * *

 

Lust blown pupils were completely focused on the panting woman in front of her. Her own breasts rising and falling harshly as she licked her lips. Ymir knew exactly what she wanted, and now it was a game of patience on her own end.   
  
Everything came in due time, but she wanted to come now. Historia’s entire body ached for Ymir’s touch everywhere she could get it.  
  
Propping herself up on her hands with a cheeky smirk, pale legs opened for the Khal, exposing her soaked core to everyone watching. She was sure Ymir was going to go straight to completing what Historia had started, and that would have been more than enough for the already on edge khaleesi.  
  
But her wife had another idea in mind to give back to Historia. “ _Fuck!_ ” She cursed, falling back on the soft grass. Out of instinct, Historia’s legs clamped around Ymir’s hand and drove her fingers deeper inside her, eliciting a pleased whimper from her throat. “ _Ymir_ …” Another gasp as deft fingertips pressed into her just right, sending her hands searching for something to grasp.  
  
After a moment, Historia opened her legs again with a little reminder from Ymir about other people being able to see. Why did that make the sensation from Ymir’s rough handling all the better? So many people were watching the khal pleasure the khaleesi, more intimate than she would have ever wanted anyone to see her if she were in a normal court…  
  
Hearing her pet name, Historia glanced up at Ymir, her kiss bruised lips parted with harsh breaths. Her heart leaped into her throat as she thought Ymir was ready, smiling to herself, only to be thrust into with Ymir’s fingers, brushing that spot again and again.  
  
Tiny hands found purchase in the soft grass below her, her back arched up off the ground as her pussy quivered around Ymir’s digits, leaving her nearly speechless except a string of Ymir’s name and title being cried out. The teasing comment sent a shiver through her body, forcing her hips up to meet Ymir’s fingers.  
  
“ _M-My–_ _**fuck** –_ _My Sun and Sta… Stars_ ,” she stammered out, trying to remember the Eotena she had been taught while Ymir took pleasure in teasing the poor girl. Her fingers were amazing, but Historia craved something larger; something that filled her completely.  
  
One hand let go of the grass, reaching between them for Ymir’s cock, stroking it a few times. “ _P-Please, My Khal… I don’t want you,_ ” Historia gasped again, looking up at Ymir and biting her lip. “ _I need you to make love to me… fuck me…_ ” Ymir’s fingers pressed into her harshly, losing her concentration for a moment. Damn those hands! “I need you inside me!” She said a little louder than she expected, her cheeks turning redder.  
  
What felt like their entire khalasar was watching now, and Historia could feel their gaze. They could see exactly how shameless Historia was.   
  
Deciding to take a little control, Historia forced herself up and her hand into Ymir’s hair as she kissed her, lowering back on to the ground with her wife on top of her. Ymir knew what she wanted, but to anyone else it would seem like she was needy. “ _Please t-take me. I’m already so close…_ ” She said quietly, lining Ymir up with her pussy for when she removed her fingers.  
  


* * *

 

There was something all the more empowering about being like this in front of her khalasar. Their khalasar. Yes, Ymir was allowing herself to be open, showing her emotions which she considered to be a sign of weakness, but everyone was watching. Well, practically everyone. It wasn’t bad, either, from what she could tell, though they weren’t her main focus.  
  
No, Ymir was more focused on hearing Historia beg. Outside of proving what a great lay she was to her khalasar Ymir enjoyed hearing Historia get louder. It meant she was doing something right. Oh, what a long way they had come from, but it was worth it.   
  
In a way, Ymir felt she ought to take her time and show off. This had been Historia’s idea, had it not? At the same time, her dick was just starting to hurt being as aroused as she was while not getting the action she wanted. It seemed Historia had somehow known, however, as not long after a hand wrapped itself around her erection and the khal gave a choked groan at the sudden but welcomed gesture. Perhaps she should lay off the teasing and just get to what she wanted to already.  
  
The sudden rather loud declaration of Historia not wanting her but needing her caused Ymir to almost halt her movements entirely. Her smug grin faded as her head was forced down and her lips crashed against the blonde’s own.   
  
They both were a little too close too soon. The thrill of being outside certainly did something for them both, that much was obvious. At the same time, Ymir was beginning to feel a bit of performance anxiety. Nonetheless, the fact she was being positioned, the stares, and the needy actions of the khaleesi forced Ymir to move onward.  
  
“ _Historia…_ ” Ymir found herself slide in rather easily and had to pause for a moment. She gritted her teeth, her member being squeezed roughly by the younger’s walls. “ _Shit… I’m not going to last long._ ” Honestly? The khal could have just came right then and there, had she not been focusing.  
  
So with that, she set a faster paced rhythm than usual. Ymir had to shut her eyes tightly and hang her head by the khaleesi’s ear, panting while her hips moved. Historia’s name would be repeated, along with an expletive or two, such would be the pattern. Around the sixth mention of her wife’s name, Ymir managed to admit that she was, in fact, rather close, before she would open her eyes once more.  
  


* * *

 

The strained voice in her ear only brought her closer. A whole day with no release, then to bring her out in front of their khalasar to show them and their Gods exactly what Ymir had been begging to do again since their wedding night? Neither of them were going to last long, but Historia knew better than to assume that this would be the last time her wife would be inside her that night.  
  
Legs wrapped tight around Ymir, Historia put the muscles she had gained to good use, pulling Ymir deeper inside her with a loud gasp. A hand drifted between the two to hold Ymir back a bit, finding the perfect angle on the unforgiving land beneath her.  
  
Hard and fast from the beginning, Historia’s brain couldn’t focus on a language long enough to be coherent. Jumbled Eotena and Sinian fell from her lips, her own end looming over the edge as Ymir said she wouldn’t last much longer.  
  
Heavy lidded eyes pried open for a moment, checking the angle and what she could get away with. Most people were too busy calling out Ymir’s name in rally, others gossiping with one another. And a tall blond in the front, scowling at the act in front of him. What was the phrase Ymir had so often used? She only gave one fuck, and that was to Historia? Very in line to the khaleesi’s as she smirked at her brother and darted a hand between her and her wife.  
  
Sex in public was one thing, but for a Sinian woman to touch herself? Blasphemy.  
  
Catching up with her wife, deft fingers worked in time to Ymir, fast and unrelenting, sending Historia bucking up to meet her sweet release as she cried out Ymir’s name for all to hear, and her body collapse back on to the ground.  
  
The last thing she heard before the chanting got too loud was her brother yelling her name, and a giggle from her own lips as she kissed the Khal deeply.  
  


* * *

 

From there Ymir truly didn’t last that much longer. The khal simply had a limit, and something about exhibitionism hit that much quicker. She hadn’t paid much more attention to her surroundings, her mind a mess and impossible for her to focus on anything other than Historia, the shouting, and how good she felt right then. Her hips bucked with little abandon as she came with a choked grunt of Historia’s name.  
  
She wasn’t the only one to get off. It seemed they both had enjoyed their fuck under the stars. Not only that, but with the kiss she received and happily reciprocated back, the night was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might be a few days before I update again, mostly because I'm having a hard time writing the one thing I'm good at (smut) and need time to actually put it together properly rather than the jumbled mess that I currently have the exclusive chapter.
> 
> Either way, thank you for reading!


	13. Inspection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. My name is Tyler and as someone who specializes in writing smut for different fandoms and private pieces, I've suddenly forgotten how the sex works.
> 
> Thank you to those who checked in on me when I stopped uploading consistently, I very much appreciate it. For the time being, the exclusive chapter has been pushed back (not by much, I promise!) and in it's place, take a new chapter!

Walking back from their public decoration had been fast, spurred by the chilly winds and Historia’s continued need for the father of her child to take her again. Well… after washing one another off from the dirt, sweat, and blood of the day.  
  
Some rest and another roll in the furs later, Historia rested against Ymir’s side, her fingers tracing the scars on her chest and stomach in idle contentment.  
  
So much of what Historia had come to know as a normal life was going to change now that everything had been announced. It would no longer be simply her and Ymir leading their khalasar together, but teaching a child to do the same.  
  
Blue eyes drifted up to the freckled cheeks she adored, smiling coyly. She prayed to the old gods and new that their baby would have freckles like hers. A boy, with dark hair and freckles. Strong, and intelligent. Merciful like her and unwavering like Ymir. The only thing she did know, from the bottom of her heart, was that the baby in her stomach was a boy. She could feel it in her bones, something she trusted more than a storm to tell her that the child was the Khal of Khals.  
  
Shifting against her wife, her leg rubbed down Ymir’s as she wrapped herself under a fur to keep herself warm. “ _Ymir…_ ” She called softly, beckoning her paramore out of her far off stare. Why not share the news she was certain of? Surely it would lay to rest Ymir's concerns, if she had any at all. “ _It’s a boy_.” Historia wrapped her arms around Ymir, resting her head on her chest to watch her process the information. " _I know this as well as I know my own name_."  


* * *

 

Another go was just what Ymir needed, and as she laid utterly content in her bed, she thanked her ancestors for getting her to where she was now. A uniquely beautiful woman by her side, a sense of power and accomplishment, a child on the way… Okay, that part was a bit nerve wracking, but the fact she was able to reproduce after all, carry on her great legacy, that was pretty great.  
  
The idea she could wind up with a child such as herself was not so great. If she was lucky, a girl. Even luckier? A boy. Supposedly with the khal-of-khals-to-be, male would be much easier, though clearly a woman heading the eotena was not unheard of technically. After all, she was sort of one herself, was she not? Two-spirit freak, of course, but maybe it meant something.  
  
She just had to hope that they were not cursed due to her own issues and her father and her mother’s before her. Maybe a few rituals to ensure such wouldn’t happen would be good, especially the ceremony - of course, as long as Historia performed the ceremony exactly as it had to be…  
  
Enough of that thinking. Tonight was not a night for her to be worrying about such things. Right now, she wanted to simply exist, as lazy as that sounded. She wanted to relax comfortably on the furs of her bed and rub gentle circular patterns onto Historia’s side until the both of them passed out for good.  
  
As her lover’s voice reached her ears, calling her name, she tuned back into the world around her more directly. Curious, she moved her head ever so slightly to look at the blonde better, raising a simple eyebrow in question.  
  
A boy?  
  
It seemed even their thoughts were starting to match up. Ymir had only been thinking of that moments prior.  
  
“ _You know this for sure?_ ” She asked, her hand moving more towards the smaller woman’s back and half-resting there. Ymir gave her a grin, the thought being a pleasant one that she had wanted to hear. Tapping her back lightly with her fingertips, she gave a light hum, only to kiss the top of the khaleesi’s head. They could discuss her confidence in such claims in the morning.  


* * *

 

The days following the public spectacle that was the Khal and Khaleesi’s announcement of pregnancy were rushed and long. While the Khalasar had been dawdling in the grasslands out of Ymir’s need to grow her numbers, it was time to return to home. At least, home for the Eotena. Historia needed to be shown to the council of crones, and Ymir to stand atop the ominous Mother of Mountains the shadowed Vaas Eotena.  
  
They needed insured safety, for the time being.  
  
Riding a few horses behind Ymir, Historia watched as her wife reared The Red back and took off with the rest of her bloodriders between the towering statues of horses.  
  
“What’s so damn important about that mountain?” Erwin spoke up from behind Historia, having been under careful watch of Reiner. “We should be riding toward Sina, not this savage hub.”  
  
Historia gently caressed the mane of The Silver, calming the mare down. She wondered herself, since she was told she wasn’t allowed on the mountain, and neither was Mikasa.  
  
“The Eotena believe that Mother of Mountains is a sacred place. Upon each visit to Vaas Eotena, the Khal must go up and pay his respects to the Great Titan.” Reiner closed the distance between himself and Historia, leaving Erwin to steer his horse up to the side of Reiner rather than Historia. “Since Ymir is a Khal, she is tolerated up on top of the plateau, but it’s not looked upon fondly.”  
  
“Well, the Great Titan has blessed myself and the Khal, so even if they do not look fondly upon it, he does.” Historia said, eyeing her brother, almost daring him to say something.  
  
Whether it was the baby making her bold, or Ymir’s training, Historia found herself being less and less able to stand her brother near her. Had it not been a slap in the face to their names, she would have him walking with the weak and sickly of the Khalasar. But she still respected him as her way to get back to Sina, and back to their rightful home.  
  
Deciding it was better to save herself the trouble of getting fired up, the Khaleesi chose to look around at the statues that lined the path to the large Eotena city. Each one taken with the brute force of the Eotena, conquering many people and religions.

“How many villages have been overthrown?” Historia asked, spotting a seven pointed star that would have belonged to Sina, or someone who practiced worshiping the walls.  
  
Reiner was quick to reply. “Villages? Countless. Cities? About a hundred, give or take.”  
  
A hundred… No telling the number of lives lost on all ends. She thought with a heavy sigh. She loved all aspects of Eotena culture, except for the death. It was something that Ymir laughed off, or encouraged, but Historia couldn’t see herself ever ordering the death of someone unless they laid hands on her future child.  
  
Sensing Historia’s unease, Sasha rode forward, laying a hand on her back. “Come, Khaleesi, let’s ride faster and get you to the Khal’s manse to rest for the afternoon.”  
  
Historia slowed her horse for a moment before finding one of the khalasar and giving the order to disperse and set up where they wanted, and not to forget to give the Council of Crones the gifts from the Khaleesi and Erwin before taking off with Sasha, enjoying the change of pace and warm, dry air whipping around her. Tonight was going to be a breeze.  


* * *

 

There was no getting out of paying tribute to the Mother of Mountains. It was something the khals had to do in respect for their fallen and the nightriders. More importantly, a sign of respect to the Great Titan and blood. Of the legends in Eotena culture, it was said at the lake beside it, the Womb of the World, was where and how the first Eotena emerged, straight out of the waters. Hence the ground itself was sacred, a place reserved for true Eotena men. Khals. Men, really.  
  
It was a place for men.  
  
While Ymir may not have considered herself a man, entirely due to her poisonous bringing and insistence to retain a feminine pronouns as a mockery to her father, she was accepted all the same.  
  
To visit was customary upon any time returning to Vaas Eotena. Some tribes stayed in Vaas Eotena permanently, at least one having avoided the ritual for three khals now. Ymir enjoyed the more nomadic aspect of being Eotena, but had also spent some time growing up in Vaas Eotena, the return was always bittersweet. Others had blood of blood that resided there, for some reason not traveling among them. Then there were the few that disliked staying for their own reasons. Everyone was different.  
  
Her job as khal was to decide where they went, and a yearly trip or two was deemed fine by the khal.  
  
Since it was an area strictly for men, and apparently the two-spirited abominations, one of her stronger riders would have to stay behind. Not really any news, as everyone knew how these things had to work. She had tried to briefly run it by Historia but found herself unable to really explain it. That’s what she had that damn guard for, right? Explaining some of the things Ymir couldn’t?  
  
With a rough low shout, Ymir reared The Red back and headed in the direction of the mountain, her bloodriders following behind her. Except Mikasa, of course. She would then take more of the lead for everyone else, continuing on the path towards Vaas Eotena.  
  
The journey up the mountainside itself was not a long or hard one, and it got easier over the course of doing so now and again through the years. As they reached the designated spot where all stopped, Ymir dismounted The Red and walked closer, kneeling down before the ground stained with ashes. A fire was lit. Shortly after, sticks for kindling were replaced with a few finer objects that had been collected during their travels.  
  
One by one each of the men gave their own thanks, saying few words outside of ‘a gift for our Mother’ until it came down to Ymir. She simply adjusted her stance and kept her words brief, just like her bloodriders and any other time she had been there before. Clearly she was tolerated, but she never wanted to risk it being less than even that.  
  
“ _We return, Mother, as there is no place one could think of as home._ ” And with it, Ymir had tossed in a figure of gold taken from some settlement they had destroyed not that long ago.  
  
The fire would eventually go down, and they would continue on their way. No earth shaking or terrifying abominations with the weather. Ymir was accepted for but another day. Her bloodriders would whoop and shout as the fire had been going and everyone had said what was needed, but once that flame went out, the ride to Vaas Eotena was always a quiet one.  


* * *

 

Standing before the large crowd, the golden haired Khaleesi stood still, eyes disinterested and focused on her wife across the room. All the preparation lead to this moment. Every time Ymir pissed her off, every hand laid on her by Erwin; Moments that kept her back straight and legs holding her in a strong stance.  
  
Inside, the baby felt wild, unnerved by the blood thrumming in Historia’s veins. She could feel the doubt beginning to settle in her stomach. What if she wasn’t enough? What if the Crones dismissed her and demanded Ymir remarry?  
  
“ _A disgrace, really. A foreign bride wasted on good Eotena blood._ ”  
  
“ _Good Eotena blood? The one of two souls is not a good bloodline._ ”  
  
It took skill to keep her mouth closed as they paced around her, prodding her body like it was nothing but a piece of meat on a spear. She didn’t care about her blood being talked about, but Ymir’s was a different story.  
  
“ _But she is the child of Rhymir._ ”  
  
“ _And took him down at young age._ ”  
  
“ _But that doesn’t make her any less of a rebel. Going against tradition and spitting on our ancestors._ ”  
  
“ _Your ancestors have blessed my Khal and myself with a child. And blessed our marriage with being lightningstruck_.” Historia said, tone despondent. “ _Obviously they believe something needed to change and saw my Khal fit to do so_.” Looking away from Ymir, she eyed one of the Crones, head tilted.  
  
“ _You’re insolent_.” The Crone hissed at her, hitting the Khaleesi’s leg with force as if testing her stance. “ _Of course Ymir would choose an insolent foreigner for a bride_.”  
  
“ _I’m stronger than I appear to the eye._ ” She said, looking back over the crowd. “ _I respect your opinion and your guidance as that of my own family’s ancestors and advisory, if any were still alive. I shall take any instruction given to me to prove my worth though anyone from my Khalasar may speak on my behalf and show their true feelings for my reign as Khaleesi._ ”  
  
Being so far from Ymir, she couldn’t see the changes in expression, if any. Not that Ymir could guide her through this.  
  
A crone reached out toward her stomach, further irritating Historia. “ _Maybe if you talked less and took more orders, you wouldn’t have to have someone speak for y–_ ”  
  
Historia grabbed the Crone’s hand, holding it away from her. “ _I speak to be heard, Dosh Khaleen. I am Sina born, but I have never known the definition of home. Those who embrace me surround me now and they are my home. My khalasar are my people. Either tell me I am to take the next step or tell my Khal that I am to step down. I grow tired of being prodded._ ”  
  
Hand yanked from her grip, the crone scowled and huddled up with the remaining members of Dosh Khaleen. Historia took a deep breath, becoming increasingly uncomfortable as time went on. She had to use the bathroom and she really needed a nap. Or Ymir in bed. Or food. Or all the above. Mostly, she just wanted this over with. She didn’t need some old women telling her what she already knew.  
  
As she was about to command an answer, the women separated, turning to Ymir. “ _Tomorrow. High Sun. If she does not complete the ceremony, you must remarry._ ” One of the Crones looked back at Historia, before they all left the tent.  
  
Waiting for Ymir to rise, she saw Levi once again talking to Erwin, while Erwin glared at Historia.  
  
She bit the inside of her lip as she stepped down to go to her wife, but was intercepted by Sasha and Hannah. “You may talk to her later tonight, but for now, she must go to council.” The brunette spoke.  
  
“That’s alright, but please, let Ymir know I need to speak with her tonight. It’s not urgent but it’s something I need to bring to her attention as soon as possible.” Historia ducked out of the tent, staring at Erwin and Levi from her vantage point. He’s up to something.  


* * *

 

The meeting with the council of crones hadn’t gone that well. Then again, Ymir hadn’t expected any different. Such was the curse of the two-spirit khal. There were days even Ymir questioned just how loyal her people were to her had she not decapitated the man who dared to take her father’s place.  
  
She was no fool. She had overheard some of the things said, though most never lived to see the next day when she found out. The only people who could get away with such berating were the old women that had to inspect Historia. Her circumstances were difficult, ones no one would want as an eotena, and to purposefully refer to herself as a woman as a form of self-punishment and dig at those who doubted her, well…  
  
While it was somewhat humiliating for Historia to lash back at one of the women verbally, Ymir had a hard time not being proud. Small little thing, such fire she carried within her. Not to mention she was getting the weirdest hard-on over the blonde trying to command attention. Disrespectful, unorthodox, and very much Ymir’s way of thinking. If anyone had questioned why she accepted Historia as a bride, it was moments like these that would provide their answer.  
  
On the bright side of things, Ymir was not demanded to remarry immediately. Besides, they were thunderstruck, to remarry would be ridiculous… but now the horse heart ceremony was meant to be a wagering piece? To bargain the well-being of a child, to not be cursed like her, now held the weight of their marriage arrangements over it.  
There were a number of reasons Ymir did not like that idea. But, who was she to argue with the old hags?  
  
Ymir had her own issues to deal with shortly after, though none nearly as bad as Historia’s judgement. Her stomach churned at the thought and her mind drifted once or twice back to such terms. First chance she had, she would fuck away those feelings with Historia.  
  
Admittedly, the sex was a big part of why she hated the idea of remarrying. While it was seen as normal to continue sleeping with other women while married, especially after conquering a village and reaping the rewards… well, Ymir simply could not get it up with anyone else. Such was discovered after the first or third time her and Historia had been together where Historia actually wanted her. A girl was presented to her and she simply just… couldn’t.  
  
If they weren’t married, sleeping with Historia would be considered a large “fuck you” to the tribe but not really challenged, it would be the whole remarrying aspect. The first wife would pull rank if she so chose to marry a second wife, but being commanded to marry again would demote Historia, even remove her from the khalasar entirely to remain with the Dosh Khaleen, seen as unworthy of her title.  
  
Historia was better than that in Ymir's eyes. Ymir would never step down, and she knew better than to think that Historia would allow herself to be removed from her side.  
As long as Ymir had a say in her future, there would be no other wives for her.  
  
Not that she believed the hypothetical wives would live longer than a night given Historia's recent possessive nature.  
  
Best not to tempt fate when it came to her more than happy situation.  
  
A sudden smack against the back of her head brought her out of her thoughts, reminded of her placement back with the council of both other khals and the crones. " _Do you dare ignore our advice?_ "  
  
What advice had that been? " _I was waiting to hear something worth speaking on, yet all you've done is talk nonsense, but please, continue._ " Ymir sat forward, ignoring the stare from the elderly khaleesi at her side. One day and if she so chose, the tribe would be back out and exploring the grasslands. No crones slapping her or making her life harder than it needed to be by pissing off her wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the shorter than usual chapter, this scene falls in an odd break for scenes and if things work out how I think they will, the next chapter will be about the same length, then the exclusive chapter, then probably one of the most iconic scenes from the show, followed by a little spoken about passage from the first book that I think is absolutely hilarious and needs more recognition.
> 
> Thanks for reading and sticking with me through the unexpected hiatus!


	14. Heart of the Problem

The plan to rest certainly hadn't gone as Historia imagined. There was simply too much to explore upon the full arrival to the place she would call home for the undetermined length of their stay.  
  
Ymir's sprawling manse on the grounds of the protects lands had been larger than Historia expected upon description, but the solid walls and heavy doors gave her a sense of protection she hadn't realized she missed.  
  
Ymir would tease her about missing such when she was protected by the strongest khal of their generation, but there was a difference. Historia didn't have to worry about anyone attacking in the night, or taking Ymir from her. Such would be boring for any normal khal, but the khaleesi would revel in the peaceful atmosphere of their home.  
  
Well, peaceful as long as her son decided to rest and didn't stick to his current routine of bringing about a wrath upon her stomach at sundown. Historia would have rather had her sickness in the morning like most women, but it seemed she wasn't meant to be like most women.  
  
Vaguely aware of the sound of her wife walking down the hall, Historia wiped her mouth as she followed a few minutes behind into the room. It seemed the chaos had ended for the time being. Historia walked by Ymir and took the chalice of wine from Ymir’s hand to take a drink to clear her mouth of the sour taste.  
  
“ _You didn’t tell me that Levi could speak Sinian_.” She said, placing it back in Ymir’s hand as she took a seat to rest on the opposite side of the makeshift chaise lounge. “ _He and Erwin seem to be getting quite close, have you noticed?_ ”  
  
The situation put her ill at ease. The fact that Erwin was allying with Levi, someone who he deemed so below him at first… There was a reason.  
  
“ _He leaves my brother’s tent late at night, and runs from you to Erwin at any given time._ ” She felt like one of the crazy people who spoke of kyojin despite them being dead for centuries. The accusations were wild, she was aware, but Historia knew there was more beneath the surface of the situation. “ _I know you trust Levi, but he needs to be watched_.” Ymir had taught her to be weary of her brother, but Ymir didn’t know just how smooth Erwin could turn someone from enemy to ally.  
  
She only trusted a handful of people right now, even in the safest city of Vaas Eotena. “ _You do trust my intuition, My Sun and Stars? I'm only asking you to be weary of what you tell Levi for a little while. If nothing comes of this, then I will trust Levi as you do_." Historia sat forward, caressing Ymir’s cheek with a small pout.  


* * *

 

The meeting with the council of crones lingered in the back of Ymir's mind as she made her way back to the privacy of her manse. She pushed the thoughts away the best she could as she greeted her wife later on in the evening. Ymir had gotten to their lodgings first, ordered someone bring her a drink, and took to sitting among some furs and taking a moment to breathe for the first time since arriving in Vaas Eotena. Of course, right on cue, Historia had waltzed right in and took her own chalice from her and part of her wine.  
  
“ _This is the first I’ve heard of it._ ” Ymir spoke slowly, trying to process this information and what her wife was getting at. Wine back in hand, she took a large sip, raising an eyebrow as she drank.  
  
Her silence was enough of an answer. Especially with her current expression. She allowed Historia to continue.  
  
It was crazy talk. Levi was her strongest, arguably the strongest warrior among her tribe. Was he fit to lead? Of course not. But, there was a reason he had been labeled as her ‘strongest’ before the ex-khal Jean changed everything.  
  
“ _I will have him watched like I do anyone_.” She half-joked. The freckled king pushed her sort-of bangs back and rolled her shoulders back. “ _Levi speaks Sinian now. The only person I knew that spoke both Eoten and Sinian was Marco and Sasha._ ”  
  
Ymir paused for a moment, standing up and making an unsure noise before looking elsewhere - anywhere but her wife - before speaking aloud something she had never attempted in front of Historia. “ _Well, uh_ … I learn Sinian. Some.” Her accent was thick, unlike the white men who spoke the language and the tinge heard in Sasha and Marco’s pattern was simply highlighted. It was awkward and didn't quite sound as put together as when Marco taught her. A dark flush colored her cheeks. The entire attempt had been a mistake.   


* * *

 

Much to her displeasure, Ymir waved off her concern. The Khal was as strong as any, and fit to rule a khalasar as they were not underhanded and did not deal in palace politics as Sinian’s did. Historia could understand the learning curve as she only recently had begun taking lessons from Reiner about such.  
  
Looking back, Historia could see Sinian politics beginning to play out in the community she loved. Erwin’s power was being threatened, and he was becoming unstable and desperate. Desperate people resorted to desperate measures to save themselves. Her father slaughtered hundreds of their own blood to save his throne in the throws of madness that clouded his mind. It was only when he was taken down by the Usurper that the madness ended.  
  
She didn’t want to see her brother fall to his knees like that, though somewhere deep inside, she knew it was too late to save Erwin from their bloodline.  
  
Historia held her head out of frustration that she held under her skin to use when she needed another day. With any luck, she could catch Ymir as she woke up to try to talk to her again. If it came to it, she would send Sasha to spy on Levi.  
  
Ymir’s shift in mood forced the blonde to lift her head, watching the normally confident stretch to find the words she wanted to use. But the ones she got needed no translation. That was Sinian.  
  
The Khaleesi stood after Ymir, approaching her with wide eyes and mouth opened. “ _Ymir?_ ” She learned Sinian? Much like when Historia learned Eotena, it was rough, and her accent carried over, but it was something that showed Ymir truly cared for her wife. Grinning, she pulled Ymir down for a kiss and released her a moment later. “ _It is wonderful._ ” She did her best to ease her embarrassment at the successful attempt at something entirely out of Ymir’s normal comfort range.  
  
“Thank you. _You may live to ride another day, for learning my language._ ” Kind of the same thing. Close as she could get to a language that had no words of appreciation.  
  
She supposed she would let the conversation of spying and politics end for the night. Given Ymir's new attempt to do something to bring them closer, Historia could save her wife the grief for another day.  
  
Taking Ymir’s hand, she led her back down to sit. The blonde still had questions about what was to happen, and Ymir would know what was coming next. “It didn’t seem like the Dosh Khaleen was very fond of their newest Khaleesi. Are they all that bitter and… jaded?” She asked, crossing her legs as she rubbed her stomach gently.  
  
It was still much too soon for Ymir to feel much going on, but inside, their future khal was kicking up a storm. So much strength for such a small thing; much like his sire, and his mother.  
  
“ _What did they mean about the ceremony tomorrow? What do I have to do?_ ” Historia leaned back the other direction, watching Ymir curiously and only looking away when Sasha appeared out of the long hallway with two bowls. For the first time in a while, her stomach screamed for food the moment she could smell whatever was in the bowls.  
  
“It smells amazing! What is i–” Historia took the bowl handed to her, only to be met with strips of bloody, raw meat. “Did you grab someone’s meat that they meant to cook?”  
  
The brunette shook her head, looking to Ymir with a small grimace. “Trust me, Khaleesi, it will help with tomorrow.”  
  
“What do you mean it will help with tomorrow?” Historia said, keeping the bowl at a distance. She was hungry and the one day she wanted to eat, she was presented with that. “ _What is tomorrow?_ ” Looking between the two, she was aware she was the one left out of the event.  


* * *

 

Ymir didn’t really answer about the Dosh Khaleen. She did not enjoy the Dosh Khaleen. Old bitter women is what they were, and though surviving and becoming an elder meant something, their way of thinking bothered the khal greatly. Her only response was a grunt to dismiss the conversation.  
  
However, the question about the ceremony tomorrow almost made Ymir want to talk about the Crones. Historia had no idea what was going on tomorrow? Her brow furrowed in slight confusion, realizing her servant girl had yet to tell her what to expect upon arriving at Vaas Eotena. After all, that was the woman’s job, wasn’t it? To relay the shit Ymir didn’t want to? Or at least Marco if not Sasha. Ymir swore she had ordered for Sasha to say something.  
  
Think of the destroyer and they will appear. Sasha floated in, carrying Ymir’s meal and what seemed to be preparation for Historia for tomorrow. Even to Ymir, did the uncooked slabs of meat look unappetizing to her palate. She exchanged a glance with Sasha, at first annoyed, then rather sympathetic for the khaleesi. It wasn’t exactly a normal craving, or the easiest on the stomach.  
  
Once more her expression turned to one of anger after the question as she stared down at Sasha, nostrils flaring.  
  
“ _I ordered you to inform the khaleesi about what to expect when we arrived!_ ” She grounded out the last part, enunciating every syllable. Clearly, Sasha was well aware of the threat, as even though the woman attempted to remain strong and hold her ground, a flash of fear shone through her eyes.  
  
“ _It is not my news to give her. Much like her expecting. Intimate conversation meant for–!_ ”  
  
“ _Horseshit. You just didn’t want to do it! I ought to have you whipped for such disobedience!_ ”  
  
“ _Ai! You’re sounding too much like the others, my khal!_ ”  
  
Ymir didn’t need this bullshit. While she could easily make well on her word she decided to have a shred of pity, if only because Historia would not enjoy such. At least, that, and while it was troublesome Sasha was good at what she did. When she did it. Cursing, she settled for whacking the brunette upside the the head and set her own food aside.  
  
“ _Tradition._ ” She glanced briefly aside back to the handmaiden before looking Historia directly in the eyes. “ _I take down the largest horse. You eat the heart._ ”  
  
It was blunt, but that was how Ymir preferred to work. A bloody tradition, and the only type of blood that could really be shed on Vaas Eotena. It was holy lands. The tradition and ceremony in itself was considered one of the holiest for the nomadic tribe. The expecting khaleesi of a khal was meant to devour a raw horse heart and in doing so guaranteed the prosperity of the khalakka or khalakki to be.  
  
Given Ymir’s own background, what happened with her own mother during such… This ceremony was not taken lightly in Ymir’s book. A lot of it was riding on their marriage, true, but that was more of a recent development. No, as the stories go, the reason Ymir was as fucked up as she was, of two sexes, was a direct result of the ceremony her mother had been part of.  
  
There was no easy way to explain that without sounding like a sap. In passing had Ymir brought it up, and even then vaguely, more so that her mother had failed a ritual and her birth was considered an abomination.  
  
“ _If you ingest and keep the heart down, it will be a strong babe. Proving it’s worth to the tribe and as the great Khal of Khals._ ” Sasha picked up.

Ymir wasn’t sure how long she had been silent but aware she had been lost in her thoughts and things had been happening around her. The freckled khal’s face remained grim dwelling on a past she was barely a part of herself.

Ymir chose to nod her head, deciding she wasn’t all that hungry at that exact moment. Instead, she swore and half-stormed a couple of feet away to sharpen her blade. Nervous habits were hard to kick.

 

* * *

 

Historia sat quietly, trying to figure out the connection between the raw meat in her lap and the following day.

The bickering of her wife and companion did nothing to help her thought process, but she had long since become accustomed to their antics. Ymir wouldn’t harm a hair on Sasha’s head, and Sasha in turn wouldn’t do what the Khal ordered most of the time anyway. It was an unrelenting cycle.  
  
As the two stared one another down, the blonde placed the bowl to the side and scooted it as far away as possible.  
  
The moment passed with only a slap to the head, much to Historia’s prediction.  
  
“ _Tradition?_ ” She repeated, only to get the unappealing news. “ _A whole raw heart? How large is a horse’s heart?_ ” Her brow furrowed, stomach souring at the thought.  
  
Sasha looked at Ymir for a moment, anticipating her leader’s response, but neither girl found an answer. With a sigh, she answered for her. “ _About the size of a rabbit? Maybe a little bigger?_ ”  
  
The idea of ingesting a rabbit sized item was horrifying. The only thing Historia could eat that much of was probably cheese buns, and even then she was sick for hours after. “ _I can’t exchange this tradition for a physical battle can I? Surely I’d be better suited to that than eating… eating an animal’s heart?_ ”  
  
“ _I’m afraid not, Khaleesi. This is how it’s been for many generations of Eotena._ ” She spoke as she continued to clean up the area, moving out of Ymir’s way.  
  
Historia’s eyes remained on Ymir, concerned for her wife’s ever shifting mood surrounding the matter.  
  
As Sasha reached for the bowl containing the raw strips of meat, Historia put out her hand to stop her and shook her head to let her know to let it remain. If this was what she had to do to prove her son’s place in the world, she would do it. Nothing was going to keep her wife and child from succeeding.   
  
“Thank you, Sasha. You’re dismissed.” She said, keeping her seat until the handmaiden left only the Khal and Khaleesi in the palace chamber.  
  
It had been a long time since Ymir reached for her akrah for no other purpose than to calm herself. She didn’t blame her for needing a calm place, but Historia didn’t want her to fret over it.  
  
Putting the bowl on the table, Historia moved from her seat to stand near her wife though not looking at her. Instead, she kept her eyes on the Kyojin eggs on the table close to their bed.   
  
“ _You don’t have to panic over this._ ” She spoke softly, picking up one of the eggs to watch the fire shine through it. The amber one was her favorite… so much like Ymir’s eyes. Carefully, she put it back, feeling a little more sure of the events coming to pass.  
  
“ _I’m going to take this head on like you’ve taught me._ ” Taking a seat by her wife, Historia linked her arm through Ymir’s and rested her head on her shoulder. “ _The Khal of Khal’s will prove themselves, and I will prove for myself for us. They will never doubt us again, and those who do will have to answer to us._ ”  
  
She sat in silence for a few minutes, letting Ymir sharpen her blade and calm down, contemplating her actions. Lifting her head, she kissed the scars that decorated her arm and rose from her seat, eyeing the bowl again with distaste. She would attempt it later. For the first time since she got married, there was a bathtub and all the time to soak that she wanted. “ _When you’ve finished sharpening your blade, come join me? I think after today, I’m in need of a very long bath for both of us to calm down._ ”  
  
Was it a lure to get Ymir to leave her blade? Of course, but Ymir had to have already known that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Ymir and Sasha's dynamics don't get enough love in general. They really do have a decent connection.
> 
> Iconic scene coming up in like 2 chapters. My stomach is already rolling just thinking about it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	15. Duties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extremely important warning: if you have an issue with blood, consuming raw meat, or two-pump chumps, please do not read.

The night passed by slowly, with the Khaleesi getting very few hours sleep in dread of the ceremony. She tried for a long time to take bites of the raw meat and keep it down while Ymir was sharpening her blade, or dead asleep, but found no progress had been made. So much rode on this one moment. Ymir’s khalship. Historia’s place in the khalasaar. Their son’s future. One little slip in her mind, even one wrong gag and everything would be for naught.  
  
Standing outside of the ceremony tent, Historia chatted idly with some of the other khaleesi’s visiting Vaas Eotena, trying to ease her nerves by talking up her wife and their khalasaar.  
  
The Dosh Khaleen exited the tent in preparation for Ymir to come to meet them for the ceremonial instructions, which Historia did her best to not pay attention to. She had to eat the heart, don’t get sick, keep it down. That was the end of it.  
  
Historia approached Ymir before she rode off for the Khal’s part, taking a deep breath.   
  
“ _Please, find the smallest large horse you can find. A large pony would be great._ ” She said, trying to lighten the mood for them both. “ _Have you seen the very small horses, like knee height? A large horse like that would be agreeable, no?_ ”  
  
She waited for everyone else to busy themselves before she gently pulled Ymir down for a kiss. “ _No matter what, I’ll do it. Don’t worry about the outcome, my sun and stars._ ” She said, letting the brunette leader go as Sasha tugged at her hand to pull her away.  
  


* * *

 

Today was the day. The day Ymir’s entire world could fall apart or cement her greatness all based on whether or not her khaleesi could keep down a horse heart or not. It wasn’t one of the most sensible ceremonies or traditions, but it was one of the longest and held in high regard. If the khaleesi stuck with the ritual couldn’t stomach the damn thing or not, the khal was immediately under embarrassment. Who wants a premonition that their son will be weak? Or worse… a girl.  
  
There were things Ymir was learning to share with Historia, but the story about how she ended up where she was today, that was one she did not feel like telling. It was a tale she honestly did not want Historia hearing from anyone. If the khaleesi could continue her life never knowing the full tale or picking up any whispering or rumors, her handmaiden stay quiet… It was shameful, in Ymir’s eyes, and she didn’t want to look any weaker than she probably already did.  
  
Besides, explaining that the day before things were supposed to happen? Or that morning? Fuck no. Last thing she needed was that even heavier weight upon her back.  
  
Part of the ceremony was on her besides whether or not her wife could consume a raw heart. Ymir, has khal and father-to-be, had to take down the largest horse she could find. Pride could be pushed aside for a moment as she glanced at the blonde she was tied to as The Red was fetched for her. Tiny wife and large heart was not a match Ymir wanted to pair together. Was the human stomach meant to even hold so much in their belly? Arguably, Historia was providing sustenance for the unborn khal-to-be - their child - so as long as said unborn child wasn’t problematic like they had been over other meals…  
  
The thought was making Ymir queasy. Plenty were seeing Ymir and the khalasar off to ride for the hunt, and as Ymir mounted the stallion brought to her, she wondered for a moment if she could really do this. Of course, brave khals did not show their fears and doubts, and with a simple brow raised in question she peered over everyone’s heads, features locked in a scowl. Right before the horn was blown, the khal leaned down beside Historia from her seat as if to kiss her, but instead kept her lips by her ear.  
  
“ _Pray the Great Titan takes some mercy and grants us a tiny horse._ ” It was half-joking, though her tone made it clear she was rather serious. The horn went off, Ymir gave a shout, and the khalasar left.  
  


* * *

 

The Khaleesi sighed at the words, patting The Red as the couple parted ways for their designated destinations of the ceremony. Ymir out to hunt, Historia to entertain and talk with the other Eotena royals. Which was a lot easier than she imagined. Since her show of power with the crones, the other Khaleesi’s found her stories of life interesting, as well as her fair skin and hair.  
  
“ _My Khal has conquered many tribes. We grow larger by the day._ ” One Khaleesi boasted, as Historia turned her head to the woman. “ _We might one day be good enough to take down your Khal, Historia._ ”  
  
Crossing her legs, Historia pretended to be bored with the comment, letting her feelings be known: the woman and her khal were nothing compared to her and Ymir. “ _I look forward to the day you ride upon us. Be sure to do it in the light of day._ ”  
Sasha snickered behind her as some of the other Khaleesi’s made quiet gasps of awe and surprise.   
  
The brunette handmaiden leaned down, whispering into her ear. “You’ve learned, Khaleesi. The Khal would be proud.”  
  
“I had the best teacher to learn from. Ymir wouldn’t let me be any less than myself.” Historia patted the girl’s cheek, keeping her eyes on the crowd, looking for Erwin.  
  
A streak of blond across the crowd caught her attention, finding him against the tent wall, speaking with Levi and then catching Historia’s eyes. The unease in her stomach turned, her eyes narrowing at the sight. “Sasha, I want not a word to Ymir, but have Reiner keep an eye on my brother and Levi.”  
  
“Any reason, Khaleesi?” Sasha asked, clueless to the actions across the way.  
  
Historia debated giving a reason, but decided against it. “I want to be sure that Erwin is here to see the ceremony for his nephew is all. He tends to get caught up in his duties as king.” She said, before going back to tittering with the royal women.  
  


* * *

 

The only weapon she was allowed was a small knife, for which to cut out the heart. Other than that, she was alone in regards of taking the beast down. Tradition dictated taking down such a wild animal with anything other than one’s bare hands was blasphemy. A spit in the direction of the Great Titan.  
  
It would be two hours of riding before the group came across a bunch of horses. Not too bad in size, and for a moment, Ymir thought she was lucky. Well, until…  
  
“ _There he is!_ ”  
  
“ _I don’t think I have seen a larger horse in all my years_ …”  
  
“ _Surely if Khal Ymir’s khaleesi is as great as she makes her seem, she can handle a stallion like that._ ”  
  
Silently, Ymir prayed and hopped off The Red. The reigns were handed over to one of her bloodriders, and slowly she approached her target. It was rather oblivious, until Ymir was just close enough to leap up and grab hold. Startled, the equine reared upwards and gave a loud cry. From where she could see the face, Ymir made a joke, shouted in the direction of Jean.  
  
“ _YOU WON’T MISS BLOOD OF YOUR OWN, JEAN?_ ” A couple of laughs greeted her back, most likely out of courtesy, but Ymir would attribute it to her wit. However, she had been distracted, and was taken for a little ride as the horse continued to panic and get Ymir off of him.  
  
With a large yell, she threw all her weight upwards and around, managing to spook the horse as he was brought down to the earth. He fell hard, causing him to be delayed as Ymir used all of her strength to crack it’s neck. It lay still for the seconds the followed, before Ymir was sure without a doubt it was dead.  
  
The knife was grabbed from her belt and plunged deep into the chest. Blood started to gush out, and after some carving, the heart was produced and shown to her khalasar.   
  
Heavy and large looking. Fuck.  
  
Jean made the effort to wrap it up in the ceremonial rag to bring back and keep safe as Ymir shook her hands slightly, trying to rid herself of some of the blood. The Great Titan knew she would be dealing with a good amount of it with her Khaleesi. Not bothersome for herself, but hey, she was trying her best here.  
  
Upon arriving back at Vaas Eotena, Ymir remained confident all until she had to dismount The Red and was able to get to Historia, only having perhaps five minutes at best before they had to part their own ways. There was no way for Ymir to really explain, nor give away her thoughts if she spoke freely. So, using what little Sinian she did know, she expressed her feelings of guilt upon not finding a smaller horse.  
  
“ _I hope your appetite is large._ I tried.”  
  


* * *

 

By the time Historia heard the sound of horse hooves on the dry ground, she had been given enough advice to make her head spin. Don’t breathe while chewing, take big bites, take small bites, don’t drink the blood, lick every drop from her fingers – it didn’t help the ill-ease in her stomach in the slightest. The Khal of Khal’s wasn’t happy with the anxiety of his mother, and made it known with a series of strong kicks.  
  
 _I know, sweet child. I will do this for you, with every ounce of will I have._  
  
She walked outside to meet Ymir with a kind and hopeful smile, only to be alerted with word about how big the horse was. “ _Largest horse we’ve seen in a decade!_ ” Jean boasted, slapping Historia on the back, unaware of the look of terror on her face as she faced her wife.  
  
Watching Jean handle it, she felt her stomach hollow out. Swallowing thickly, she laid a hand on Ymir’s arm. “ _Don’t worry about it, My Sun and Stars. It’s my fate and I will do this to prove myself. It’s not in us to give up._ “  
  
With several layers of furs placed on the pedestal, Historia climbed on top of it and waited for both her wife and her brother to reappear to start the ceremony. Once she had Ymir in front of her and she could see Erwin’s blond head out of the corner of her eye, she nodded to let Jean know she was ready.  
  
Placed in front of her was the large horse heart, still leaking blood from the arteries. Historia couldn’t deny that her stomach lurched at the sight, but refused to let it show on her face. She was a Khaleesi of the Eotena, wife of the Great Khal Ymir, and of royal Reiss blood. She was above this.  
  
Flickering her gaze forward, she waited for the elder women to start chanting before she picked up the heart, wincing as it squished in her hands.  
  
Locking eyes with Ymir, Historia brought it to her mouth and bit into the still warm flesh of the stallion, almost throwing up as the blood spilled down her throat in a thick wave. Her teeth cut at sinew and tendon, ripping it away from her mouth as she started to chew the first bite of many.  
  
Five bites in, Historia had started to learn not to breathe while chewing. It made everything worse, but by bite ten, she couldn’t breathe through her gummed up airway. Blood did not make for good lubricant for food going down.  
  
The chanting got louder the longer she went, as did the protesting of her abused stomach. Pushed past capacity, it was by pure force of will that she kept any of it down after eating more than half of it. But she couldn’t stop there, even if her body wanted to empty the contents back on the floor and Historia wanted to get the sticky blood off her face, arms, chest and stomach.  
  
 _This for your baby. This is for Ymir. This is to prove your brother wrong. This is to prove you’re worthy of leading the Eotena by Ymir’s side._ Each bite was a symbol to something else, something she could work towards.  
  
Historia could hear Reiner and Erwin talking to the side, thankful to have a distraction. “The elders are singing, ‘I’ve heard the thunder of his hoofs. Swift as the wind he rides. His enemies will cower before him. And their wives will weep tears of blood.’ She’s having a boy. ‘The Titan that Fucks the world,’ as the Khal has called him.”  
  
“The baby will never be a real Reiss. His blood isn’t pure.”  
  
“Neither is your sister’s, Your Grace.” Reiner said with a smug look, watching Historia closely as she got closer to the end of the heart.  
  
Steadily, Historia pushed the last bite into her mouth and fixed her posture, chewing through the meat the best she could with her mouth full.   
  
The moment she thought she had it down, suddenly her stomach lurched and the baby sent a strong kick to her back, sending the blonde on to her elbows and knees.  
  
The rest of the tribe went silent in anticipation of the Khaleesi to throw up and signal the end of the ceremony.  
  
Historia shook her head, her hand gripping into the fur as she battled the blood and raw meat in her throat from coming up.   
  
Forcing the last of the heart down, Historia stood back up on her knees after a moment of rest. Her knees were killing her, as was everything else. Reaching up, she wiped the blood on her mouth on the back of her hand, a satisfied smirk on her face as the elder’s started to shout the title of the baby.  
  
Standing on two feet as steady as she could, Historia raised a hand to silence the crowd. Scanning the room, she started to speak.  
  
“ _A prince rides inside me. The Titan that fucks the world! He will be the Khal of Khals. He will be the one to unite all people of this world under his rule!_ ” Historia stopped to look at Erwin, her gaze unwavering. It was essentially unheard of for the Khaleesi to name the child, as it was the Khal’s duty to do so when they were born, but she was sure Ymir would have no problem with the name she had chosen. “ _And his name will be Ymirin!_ ”  
  
Stepping toward the edge of the platform, the proud Khaleesi felt her skin prickle as the tribe shouted Ymirin’s name. For once, she felt accepted in a kingdom, even if it was just because she carried the great Khal of Khals.  
  


* * *

 

It wasn’t that Ymir doubted her khaleesi. Honestly, she was amazed by her with each passing day.  
  
The woman came from the womb of a titan, or rather the blood that once controlled titans. Even though such lineage may seem more important to the weak that roamed beyond the poisoned waters, it was not more than the same idiom to the eotena. At least, that had been more along Ymir’s thinking when they were first wed. Perhaps there was something to the Reiss name if they all came out as stubborn and strong-willed as her wife.  
  
Again, it was not that Ymir doubted Historia by any means. It was the horse heart and the weight this ceremony held. No one could escape the thick tension in the tent except the more Sinian of onlookers. A large horse, a small girl that barely ate as it was, the context…  
  
No, Ymir doubted the odds more than anything. Despite the premonition of thunder striking given by the old tribe Jean headed it seemed the Great Titan was not treating them kindly. A test for the khal of khals to be ready to appear, maybe.  
  
She was one of the last to walk in, Historia already in her own place. Calmly, or at least as calmly as she could, the freckled warrior took her own seat. The khalasar would see a strong, powerful and intense khal waiting for Jean to place the heart down. What they did not know was that Ymir felt as if her own heart had been carved out and was being placed in front of the khaleesi.   
  
Staring back at the pair of dark blue orbs studying her, as the elders sang, Ymir kept her expression blank as a pair of unnaturally white teeth sank into the uncooked organ. As Historia’s hands readjusted their hold and gradually swallowed, Ymir felt a sharp pang in her chest and one below her belt. Silently she would will her wife to keep going, providing her nonverbal encouragement.   
  
The more she sat on it, the hotter her skin felt. Something about the chanting and the intense gaze on the blonde caused her breath to quicken. The way she continued to scarf down each bite of the raw heart, how she became drenched in the blood of the horse Ymir had taken down with her own hands, it caused her loins to stir.   
  
The khal became aware rather quickly that were the ceremony not going on Historia would have been fucked by her right then and there. For a few moments, the consequences and how much was riding on this tradition were not in Ymir’s forefront. Somehow this was a new form of foreplay in the way she was getting off to the sight. Then it became somewhat of a vicious cycle: realizing and remembering what was going on, worry, self reassurance, pride, lust, then repeat. Yet, still, her expression remained the same, with perhaps only Historia maybe having the slightest inkling to her thoughts were she not preoccupied. Ymir had managed to shake herself away from her feelings and disassociate by the final minute.   
  
One bite. It was that one bite she felt, for the first time in a very long time, fear. It was that time during the ceremony, and that time alone, Ymir actually had moved, sitting up more and forward at attention. The sudden silence washed over all as everyone waited for the khaleesi to throw up, for a sign their marriage was doomed, that the child was cursed, and Ymir was to remarry.  
  
Historia did not.  
  
Ymir could not hide the smirk on her face that matched her beloved’s when she cockily wiped her mouth. Such pride, she felt, in that her wife had grown in their short time of union. They would have a boy, strong and healthy, that would conquer all of the tribes.  
  
Though the sudden naming of the unborn khalakka was not anything anyone was expecting - in fact, it undermined Ymir in a way and was outside of tradition as Historia should have been informed - it didn’t wipe Ymir’s grin away in the slightest. Her smile could not falter, as who could be angry knowing their child was now not only okay, but being named after themselves? On top of that, the crones were already angry. Fuck those old hags. What was another spit in their direction?   
  
The khal stood up, gently picking Historia up as the chanting continued. And her erection strained painfully in her pants. Her throat stung from keeping her face as straight as she could for so long and from the inward panicking. The blood of the horse was now staining her skin as well, and she was certain all Historia wanted was to be cleaned up in the waters nearby. So, that is where she headed.  
  
Of course, trying to wash her skin and help, Ymir was all the more reminded of how turned on she was and how she wanted her wife right then and there. With very little thinking, Ymir adjusted Historia’s clothes and her own. Immediately she sheathed her prick inside of her khaleesi, panting into Historia’s neck. Her hands went to the smaller pale waist of her lover, watching her face as she thrust into her, three times, before grunting loudly and shuddering as she came.  
  
Later she could be embarrassed. Sure, she didn’t last long at all, and the fact they were completely surrounded by her khalasar and followers was embarrassing. Actually, no, she was rather red in her face right now standing there.  
  
Whatever. Everyone was well aware of the shouting Historia made from their fucking every night. She didn’t need to prove shit. Even the awkwardness seemed to disappear as Ymir tucked herself back in and jutted her jaw out to challenge anyone who dared think less of her.  
  


* * *

 

Historia grinned as Ymir picked her up off the pedestal, holding herself up on the strong shoulders of her wife. This was something they created together. An empire before them, ready to be taken down with the power of their unborn son. A child created from their love that was powerful enough to shake the ground they walked upon.  
  
Coming around the pedestal, Historia held Ymir’s face in her hands and kissed her gently, worried of the blood sticking to her Khal.  
  
As exciting as it was, the movement was starting to become uncomfortable from being held so tight and so high, and all she wanted was to be put on the ground to regain the feeling in her feet. Covered in blood and the wares of the day, Historia didn’t know how someone could want to hold her, let alone want her anywhere but in a bath, but as Ymir slowly placed her to the ground, there was a pressure against her stomach that was very telling of her wife’s mindset. It would have to wait, but she would be sure to give Ymir exactly what she wanted later that night.  
  
“Khaleesi, you must wash in the Womb of the World.” Sasha said, coming up behind her to coax her to the large, fresh water lake that resided within Vaas Eotena. “It is your way of showing those who have passed on that you respect their gift of life.”  
  
Glancing back to her handmaiden, she nodded, allowing Ymir to carry her out of the tent. Behind them, the Khalasar followed, shouting Ymirin’s name at the top of their lungs, gathering more people as they traveled to the water. Historia felt like she was glowing from within, like her Kyojin eggs in the firelight. She did it, and there was nothing that anyone could have said about it. Undisputed.  
  
The pale Khaleesi gave a sigh of relief as Ymir’s arms loosened to place her on the clay of the shore. She stepped into the cool water and sank to waist deep, thankful for the chance to clean herself of the sticky blood. Her nimble fingers went to make quick work of her clothes, only to find herself lifted into the air by her wife once again, face to face. “ _Ymir?_ ” She asked, a little confused for a moment until she felt Ymir’s hand between them, pulling out her cock.  
  
Historia held no qualms with the act in public any longer, having become so used to her and Ymir going at it wherever and whenever they wanted. Her only concern being the lack of preparation before hand and if Ymir would be able to do it without paining her. The few strokes of Ymir’s spit-slicked palm on her cock gave Historia enough time to prepare herself, clinging to the brunette as she stretched the Khaleesi, giving a moan as she was filled.  
  
“Fuck,” she panted softly, suddenly aware of the lack of rhythm from her partner, and before she knew it, Ymir had come inside her.   
  
Historia rested her head on her shoulder, a little disappointed in not being able to get off with her wife, but made no show of her disappointment. “ _Thank you, My Sun and Stars._ ” She murmured, placing a few kisses to her collarbone.  
  
A giggle escaped her lips as she was let down, feeling Ymir’s seed leak down her legs before going back into the water to clean off.   
  
It took a few moments, but slowly her skin was washed clean of the sticky blood, left as unmarred as normal, if not simply round from the pregnancy. Though offered a silk robe to dress in, Historia waved it off, preferring to do as her tribe did, and walk back to the sprawling manse naked.  
  


* * *

 

The following journey back to their own private sanction was a blur. While she was up for another more proper round no doubt Historia was not. After all, the woman did just shove a horse’s heart down her throat… and thinking about that just made Ymir more turned on. She could take her wife again later. After the celebration had in the ceremony Historia had gone through. Loudly. While everyone else tried to sleep.  
  
“ _The sight of you covered in the blood of another makes me want you._ ”   
  
She didn’t dare try to beat around the bush, trying to bring it up as casually as possible. “ _I always want you. Almost a miracle the Great Titan is blessing us with one child and not more._ ”  
  
Whether Historia was aware of how bad Ymir loved her, Ymir wasn’t sure. Maybe in talking with other khaleesis she gained somewhat of an idea. Ymir was not a leader with words. She was a ward lord, her disagreements solved in battle. To try and articulate her true thoughts and feelings were always a disaster and frustrated her to no end. But, it had to have gone noticed, the way Ymir did not take any other women for pleasure or the lack of another wife being arranged.  
  
“ _I ought to marry another for you naming our khalakka._ ” The snort that followed was obnoxious and Ymir continued to joke. “ _But I will hold off for another day on marrying another. Mostly because you are carrying a child you intend to name after me. That, and I still want you._ ”  
  


* * *

  
  
The blonde Khaleesi sat on their bed, not bothering to cover up as she brushed out her hair to braid back, smiling from ear to ear as Ymir continued to eye her. To think that half a year ago, the woman couldn’t imagine a future with the war lord, and now it was all she wanted. As mad and deranged as she could be.  
  
“ _Oh?_ ” She said, resting her head on her knuckles. “ _Now they might punish you for not getting your Khaleesi to her end by giving us three instead of one._ ” Their banter was nothing more than that, and Ymir had to have known Historia held no ill will toward her for the small round at the lake.  
  
Historia got up from the bed with her robe, leaving the brush behind to dress and hold her wife. “ _But then Ymirin would still be the Khal of Khal’s, and might murder the new wife as she slept with just the whim of his thoughts for he loves me already._ ” She popped up to her tip toes, stealing a kiss. “ _And I want you a few more times before you decide to cast me away shamefully, my Khal._ ”  
  
Taking a deep breath, she nearly yawned as everything caught up with the petite woman. She wanted a nap, but didn’t intend to make Ymir wait to receive the praise she deserved for making the Khal of Khals. “ _My Sun and Stars, leave me behind to rest for a while. Ymirin makes me so tired. I’ll find you_.”  
  
Watching her wife leave, Historia finally let herself yawn and rub at her eyes. Expecting the strongest child of the era was taxing. “Sasha?” Historia called out, waiting for the brunette to enter.  
  
“Ai, Khaleesi?” Sasha responded, walking to the bed.  
  
“Was my brother at the Womb of the World?” Historia asked, turning so Sasha could help with the braids.  
  
She thought for a moment, scanning her memory for the true king. “Ai, but he was with Levi. They spoke for much of the event.”  
  
“Curious.” Things weren’t adding up. Her brother was becoming bold being seen with Levi, and that was dangerous. “Have you noticed anything else?”  
  
“He’s stopped calling girls to his tent at night… And he seems to be limping.”  
  
Historia’s brow furrowed, handing Sasha the braid she had been working on. “From walking?”  
  
“Ai. The men have been calling him the Sore-Foot King.” Sasha said with a sigh, braiding the pieces together. “A very shameful title for horselords.”  
  
“I’ll talk to Ymir about getting his horse back. If you find anyone calling him that, please let me know so I may speak with them.” Historia said, rather enjoying the title, but to let her brother be mocked was bad on her. “Have Reiner continue to follow him. He’s not in his right mind right now, and I don’t wish him harm.”  
  
“As you say, Khaleesi.” Sasha finished the braids, smoothing them out before being dismissed by the blonde to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Drogo, in the books, is entirely a two-pump chump. At least after the horse heart scene. Really, one of my favorite scenes because it's so funny and GRRM can't write smut to save his life.
> 
> I didn't mean not to update the story for so long, honestly. I was putting all my heart into trying to write the bonus content but because Historia is no longer an active muse of mine, it's almost impossible to write for her and Ymir any more. When the chapter is done, I will either post it at the end of BoMB or as it's own content entirely. Thank you for being patient and sticking with me!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Please, feel free to leave feedback. Ofhalsen and I thrive off hearing back from people who read our works, even if they're finished! Who knows, after we finish posting this... there might be more.


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